


Black-Handed

by Rejuvenescenceia



Series: Wicked Games - A Sherlock Holmes AU [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Omnics, Alternate Universe - Sherlock Holmes AU, Domestic, Human Echo (Overwatch), Human HAL-Fred Glitchbot, Human Lynx Seventeen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Multi, Sherlock Jesse McCree, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Gabriel Reyes/Jesse McCree, Watson Gabriel Reyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-01-29 22:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21417868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rejuvenescenceia/pseuds/Rejuvenescenceia
Summary: Famous Korean Idol and gamer Hana Song has come to Jesse McCree to find a blackmailer potentially based in Los Angeles after a compromising video was taken of her and her girlfriend at a tournament after party. With the help of Lynx Seventeen, they trace the source and find a few more threads alluding to the mysterious Sombra. Part Two of Wicked Games.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Wicked Games - A Sherlock Holmes AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1519064
Comments: 19
Kudos: 40





	1. White Rabbit

**Author's Note:**

> Thank-you so much to those that showed support for my first work in the Wicked Games Series! Black-Handed is loosely based on 'The Adventure of Charles Augustus-Milverton' by Arthur Conan Doyle, and will draw somewhat from there.
> 
> Thank-you again to muse and beta reader Demi Dea for appropriately kicking my butt even when I have Big Doubt, and thank-you to beta reader and cheerleader WigglySniffer as well. And of course, a big thank-you to those who left feedback on A Case of Cardinal Sin.
> 
> Some of the hacking mentioned is more or less legit, but I tried to avoid going too technical. It makes Gabriel's head hurt anyway.

The cursor blinked on the screen in front of Gabriel, the Word document completely blank except for the date. He’d missed the last few entries and knew, despite having only three subscribers, he ought to write  _ something, _ if only to appease Mariana and Orisa. Jesse he knew wouldn’t particularly care. Or, at the very least, he’d  _ pretend _ not to care.

The absence was owed to catching a burglar in Long Beach, one who was ‘particularly clever’ according to Jesse. Gabriel was still far from Jesse’s level of thinking, and wouldn’t have come to the conclusion that it was a local dog walker. 

With a small smile, he put his hands to the keyboard to write the introduction.

_ There, _ he thought, pleased with a proper introduction and a clever title. It was unobtrusive, and he’d be able to work through it without explicitly naming anyone even if it had been in the news.

As he was staring at the blank page he heard a push notification, like a dull guitar strum. Just the sound made Gabriel’s lips tighten in a hard line, afraid of what he was about to find. He blew out a sigh of relief to see who it was. 

**JR85:** _Hey handsome. Have you given any thought to coffee?_

He stared at the message, contemplating it. At Orisa’s insistence, he decided to give both Grindr and Tinder a try, though he was overwhelmed by the former. It seemed everyone wanted to message him there, and more than a few liked spamming with unwanted nudes. Only a few, like JR85, were more interested in good conversation and a real date than jumping straight to bed. He was a school teacher, well read, and seemed kind.

**Reyes1031: ** _ I have. I might be busy tonight, but I’ll let you know how work goes _

Not that Gabriel had anything resembling a job. What he did with Jesse was unpaid, and his measly savings were running out. Soon he’d have to start applying wherever he could.

_ The McDonalds down the street his hiring, _ he thought, before shaking his head. He couldn’t really imagine having much patience for customer service after serving in the Marines for twenty years.

Turning his mind back to his blog entry, Gabriel picked up his mug to take a sip of coffee and found it empty. 

Of course.

With a grumble he reached for his cane and left his bedroom, that little cursor still blinking away.

He’d been living at 221B for a few months now and was settling in. He didn’t mind the occasional sounds from the home below, whether it was the yelling legion of kids or a husky roar for quiet from Torbjörn, their father. He was also used to the sounds of Jesse around the apartment at odd hours of the night, either strumming his guitar or talking to himself in his study. 

Life was… kind of nice. Everything was settling into a comfortable state, enough so that Gabriel was pushing himself outside of his own comfort zone in little ways. A few articles of clothing left on the floor felt like an act of rebellion, though he’d yet to break the habit of always making his bed to military standards. Along with the blog, Gabriel was even making baby steps on Grindr and Tinder at Orisa’s encouragement, though he was yet to go on a date.

The kitchen of 221B was in a bit of a state. Gabriel was admittedly falling behind in picking up the place. As he paid less in rent he tried to focus more on upkeep, but with the way he and Jesse always seemed to be on the move with Jesse’s work chores were something that fell more and more by the wayside. The dishes needed doing, the refrigerator probably needed cleaning out. The kitchen table was taken over by a rather impressive arsenal of knives that Jesse had been ‘experimenting’ with. Some of them still had fake blood on them, and bits of ballistics gel.

He stopped at the place of honor near the stove, the coffee maker with its built in grinder flanked by several tins of different kinds of coffee. Gabriel was the kind of man who drank whatever you put into his cup, but Jesse was a snob about it so Gabriel left that bit of shopping to him. 

The coffee pot was near empty, the dregs slowly boiling down to tar at the bottom, and he switched off the pot with an eye roll, moving to the sink. “Jesse, you’re supposed to shut off the pot after you’ve taken the last of the coffee,” he called, flipping open the lid and turning the water on to clean it out.

“It wasn’t me,” said Jesse, who was bent over something in the living room. “But I’ve been on surveillance for awhile now, tracking the culprit. Incriminating paw prints left in the sugar dust, a thousand yard stare…”

“Jesse.”

“The Cat with No Name has struck again.”

Gabriel closed his eyes as he set down the bottle of dish soap. “That’s not his name.”

“I know. But we’ll never know it now will we?”

There was a scramble of paws as a red light zipped over the hardwood floor, followed closely by a ferocious ginger blur. For a ten pound animal, the Cat often sounded like a stampeding elephant. Down in the house below someone shrieked with laughter and Torbjörn called for quiet.

Ever since bringing the adopted cat into 221B there’d been an ongoing debate over his name. Gabriel had put forth plenty of sensible suggestions, but apparently Jesse had too deep a love for spaghetti westerns to be shaken from his choice. Gabriel had tried stubbornly sticking to Poncho, insisting it was a good enough homage, because it was too much of a mouthful to yell ‘The Cat with No Name’ every time he got into the garbage or climbed the coat rack, but he was losing since everyone was siding with the cowboy. Now he defaulted to the Cat with a capital C, or ‘pisshead’ when they broke something.

Still, Gabriel liked the Cat. In some form there’d always been a cat in his life. As a young boy his  _ abuelita  _ had kept an ancient tabby named Pepita and had fed and named plenty of the neighborhood strays, and as a teen Gabriel had a cat named Slayer who’d lived to an old age, comfortable on his  _ abuelo’s _ lap when Gabriel had joined the marines. Having another made the place feel like a home he hadn’t had in a long time.

He finished scrubbing out the coffee pot. It wasn’t even very old, but the pot had taken on a brown hue from multiple uses. More often than not someone was brewing a fresh pot. Jesse was a coffee addict and Gabriel was fast following down on that path.

The buzzer went off while he was adding scoops to the filter.

“Is it twelve already?” asked Jesse, who was laying down on the other side of the kitchen area, with a feather toy on a stick outstretched to tempt the Cat. The Cat was sitting on the braided rug in the hall, his haunches twitching back and forth occasionally, pupils dilated.

“Yeah, and can you answer that?” asked Gabriel.

With a long suffering sigh Jesse hauled himself off the floor and went to the door. Gabriel supposed it was a client, feigning nonchalance while Jesse invited them inside. Pressing ‘brew’ he turned to look at who’d come.

Most of their clients were from all walks of life. They’d had bankers worried about security, mothers with missing kids they just wanted an update on, people hit by con artists, and of course the LAPD. He wasn’t really expecting the teenager Jesse was leading to sit in the living room.

She was average height, he supposed, for an Asian woman. No doubt Jesse had already gleaned her life story just from a glance, but the person Gabriel saw gave him the impression of someone who was well put together, dedicated to her looks. She had expertly done make-up, neatly styled brown hair, and designer clothes.

“This is my partner, Gabriel Reyes,” said Jesse. “Don’t mind him. He don’t bite unless you ask.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

“Oh,” she said, looking at Gabriel with curiosity. “So you don’t mean business partner?”

Heat flashed over the back of Gabriel’s neck as he picked up a cushion from his own chair and tossed it at Jesse, hitting the other man in the face. “Yes, he does. He’s just an ass.”

The woman laughed quietly as Jesse threw the pillow back. 

“Gabriel, this is Hana Song. She’s also known in some circles as D.Va.”

“Diva?” he asked, sitting down. “So are you a singer?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m a gamer. Esports, actually.”

“Esports? You mean like, they hold competitions and tournaments for this stuff now?” He raised an eyebrow, feeling old. “I know my nephews are obsessed with Minecraft, but that’s about as caught up as I am in video games.”

Hana smiled politely. “Esports are becoming very popular, especially in South Korea, Japan, and China. North America too, of course, and Europe. But it’s a craze in Asia.”

Jesse took his seat. His arm chair was a soft, overstuffed looking Lazy Boy recliner, and very different from Gabriel’s wing-backed antique. He sat on the edge of his armchair and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and fingers steepled in front of him. 

“So, Miss Song, what brings you to me exactly? Can’t imagine why a South Korean Idol would come all the way to Los Angeles for a private detective.”

Hana’s cheeks turned pink. “Yes, well. Who I am is exactly  _ why _ I am here. At home Idols are very important to a lot of people. We are held to strict standards of how we conduct ourselves. A lot of time we cannot even date. We must uphold our brands, our images. Idols are… sort of like a product for sale.” She grimaced. “I hate it. Most of us do. But when I began to get popular as a Let's Player-”

“A what?” asked Gabriel, confused.

“A YouTuber. I play video games and people watch me play, listen to my commentary and reviews. I also stream my games on Twitch. So when I began to get popular and I needed help managing my social media presence, it began to spiral. After I was recruited into a professional Mecha Guardian team, and a national League of Legends team, I was hired on to promote different snacks and sodas, a make-up brand. That sort of thing.” she shrugged. “Suddenly I was very popular, which… well. The lifestyle  _ can _ be good, even if it’s restricting. And it can help me get into acting one day. But… it also means that I can’t have certain things.”

“A romantic life,” Jesse suggested, which made Hana nod, looking crestfallen.

The coffee pot chimed and Gabriel stood. “Would you like one, Miss Song?”

“Hana, please. And yes. Black.”

“A woman after my own heart,” he said. Three mugs went on the counter, a green cactus mug ringed with brown from years of use that belonged to Jesse which told everyone else to ‘Succ It,’ a brightly coloured Talavera mug for himself, and a mug Fareeha had given him when she’d returned from a vacation with Panama with a simple oceanic design. The order was easy enough, all three straight black, and he carried them back in one hand.

The Cat had decided to bother Hana and was sitting on her lap, purring up a storm as she scratched him behind the ears. She didn’t seem to be at all bothered by the ginger fur coat he was shedding onto her lap.

“Thank-you. I have a rabbit at home, I love animals,” she said. “But… yes. So, um. As an idol, my romantic life is somewhat stifled. I try to keep it under wraps and out of the eyes of the public. I thought I had a little more room to stretch when the Mecha Guardian team was sent to the world championship here in Los Angeles. I was wrong.”

“You’re being blackmailed,” Jesse guessed, his eyes narrowing a bit.

“Yes,” she said. “I don’t know who. They contacted me by e-mail, with still frames of the video they told me they had. Even just the still frames are enough to ruin me. South Korea is advanced, but very conservative towards many things, and an Idol having a relationship like that can… ruin a lot of lives. Not just my own.”

Jesse lowered his hands, looking sympathetic. “The other person in the photos is a woman?”

Hana’s cheeks flushed even darker, her eyes growing a little wet. “Yes. A teammate. My family is less traditional, but I still don’t know what they’d do, and I know hers would be  _ furious. _ They are already upset with her being in esports like myself. We’re not ready for this. It would take away our careers, our credibility in our home country, and hurt our families.” Hana broke then, covering her eyes with her hand as her mug trembled in the other, voice growing thick with tears. “I paid him, but he didn’t stop asking. And he’s demanding money from her as well.”

Gabriel felt a deep swell of anger, dark and hot, surge like bile inside of him. He curled his left hand into his cushion, breathing out slowly. The shadowy mental image he had of whoever was torturing two poor girls, celebrities or not, made him want to kill. Hana Song couldn’t be older than twenty, and no doubt her teammate was too. She deserved protection, not harassment.

Jesse got up and sat down next to Hana, putting his arm around her in a half-hug. “I promise I’ll make this alright, sugar. So, you’re fairly certain he’s based here?”

She shrugged, wiping her eyes. “The party he took pictures of was an after party we went to. He had to have been there. It’s a place to start, right?”

“That’s right. So… when he contacts you again, you may have to pay him so he doesn’t think something’s up,” said Jesse gently. “Make an excuse, tell him you’re worried someone’s going to notice so much money leaving your account, but still pay him. Assholes like that get off on people in desperation. He’ll think he’s in control, and the last thing we want is for him to get caught before you’re ready.”

“He  _ is _ in control,” she said, a few more tears rolling down her cheeks. “He even told me that if something happened to him, that all of our pictures, and the video, would be made public immediately.”

“He don’t know it yet, but with me on it he just lost control,” Jesse promised. “I’ll need access to your email for a little while. I shouldn’t need your girlfriend’s, so if you don’t want her to know you told me you don’t have to.”

Hana nodded, looking a little calmer. “Do you have a laptop I can use?”

“Don’t worry about logging me in here, I’ve got a fellow. You have anywhere you need to be in particular?”

She shook her head. “Not really. I mean, I’m here officially on vacation, but I took a few pictures I can throw on Instagram so people believe I am where I say I am.”

“Alright. Well, you hang out with Gabe. I know he’s old and boring,” he was grinning, ignoring Gabriel’s protest, “but he’s the best we got on short notice. I’ll make a few phone calls. I doubt my fellow’s doing anything  _ too _ important.”

With that, Jesse wandered in the direction of his study, leaving Gabriel having to work down the anger at the blackmailer that was still rolling around in his chest like a monster so he could say two words to Hana without sounding deranged. 

“Uh… so if you’re famous… You want to take a picture with me so I can show my niece and nephews? I bet they know you, and even if they don’t, they’d probably be pretty jealous.”

She laughed, wiping away tears with neatly manicured pink nails. “I’d love to.”

***

“I’m losing,” said Gabriel, brows pinched together in a hard line. He had his reading glasses on and was leaning in close to the laptop screen, feeling a little too tense but unwilling to look away.

“It’s Minecraft,” Hana laughed at him. “There’s no measurable way to lose this game.”

They’d moved Jesse’s knife collection, which had provoked a considerable argument over categorizing due to blade curvature, length, and thickness, and had taken up residence at the kitchen table. The Cat lay between them, stretched along the surface of the table, tail lazily flicking as he enjoyed the heat from both laptops.

Jesse, after disappearing in a huff over the knife debacle, didn’t return for some time. Hana had decided they needed something fun to do while they waited for whatever Jesse had planned, so she’d bought them each a copy of the game and was trying to teach Gabriel how to play so he could impress his niece and nephews.

“No - NO! FUCK!” Gabriel broke off into a string of curses. “I got blown up again.”

Hana snorted. “Okay, let me go get your stuff…”

_ Stupid game, _ thought Gabriel, getting up to refill his cup.  _ Stupid time waster. _

Still, he was sort of enjoying himself, and it would give him something to talk about with the kids, even if he only ever played once. He fully planned on deleting the game once she left.

“So, who owns all the Morricone books?” asked Hana as Gabriel refilled his mug. “I was looking at your bookshelf earlier, and I noticed quite the collection.”

Gabriel glanced at at the shelves, which were filled with volumes belonging to both he and Jesse. His own collection was mostly horror mixed with a little science fiction, and a considerable number of titles by Jim Butcher. Gabriel tended to prefer the fantastical to anything close to real life, since most thriller novels screwed up as much as television did. Jesse’s taste seemed more eclectic, American classics mixing with various works of nonfiction ranging from true crime, criminology, psychology, history, and a lot of pulp Western paperbacks. The Morricone works were his as well, and had their own tidy shelf next to McCree’s ancient typewriter.

“McCree,” he said, turning back to the computer. “I don’t know much about the author, truth be told.”

“He takes a lot of cliche genre’s and subverts them,” said Hana. In the last hour she’d proven to be the kind of girl who liked to fill quiet spaces. She wasn’t a chatterbox, but she liked conversation. “I mostly read American and English literature. I got into the habit when I was learning the language in grade school, and honestly there’s a lot more scope for vocabulary and different concepts sometimes. Morricone is one of the authors I like to read lately. Mysteries are very popular in South Korea. If they ever adapted one of his works, I’d want to be involved.”

Jesse walked in, heading for the refrigerator. Gabriel wasn’t sure why, but he had the distinct impression he was waiting for something, or had been listening in, as he started to poke around inside of it.

“Guess I’ll have to steal one of his books off the shelf,” said Gabriel, sitting back down at the computer.

“He’s writing a new book, too,” said Hana. “He hinted about it on his blog. A romance. I’m really curious to see how it turns out. Most of them are pretty dull, but Morricone is really talented at taking a simple concept and making it intriguing.”

There was a hiss and a pop from a bottle cap and Jesse shut the door of the refrigerator, emerging with a beer. His face was neutral, but Gabriel thought he detected a hint of amusement in his eyes. He couldn’t fathom why. 

Before they got back into their game, however, there was another buzz at the door. Without a word Jesse made his way over, sipping at his Rolling Rock as he opened up for whoever was on the other side.

A young person, laden down with Trader Joe’s shopping bags filled with electronics, stood on the threshold. Gabriel couldn’t tell their gender, their body androgynous underneath of the baggy blue hoodie and loose track pants they wore. Without taking off their colourful Nike shoes, they wandered in, eyes sweeping over their surroundings. 

“Move,” they said, with a husky voice that maybe leant itself to masculinity, and began to set the bags onto the table.

With a glance at Hana, who was staring curiously at the newcomer, Gabriel closed the game and shut his laptop to get out of the way. The Cat was less gracious about leaving, and hissed at them before jumping off the table.

Jesse cleared his throat. “Uh, Miss Song, Gabe, this is Lynx17. Friend of mine. They’re gonna help us find the asshole doing this.”

“Call me Lynx,” they said, getting to work, running an ethernet cable to the modem and setting up their rather bulky laptop and a few other items. Gabriel wasn’t about to guess what anything was, he just got out of the way. 

Lynx was striking, whoever they were. They had vitiligo, mostly around their neck, which is why Gabriel supposed they wore a hoodie even in that heat. Their turquoise locs were tied back behind their head with a scarf, and their headset reminded Gabriel of rabbit ears.

It was Hana who spoke up first. “I like your headphones.”

Lynx looked irritated at the interruption, but then gaped at Hana, their entire demeanor changing at once. “D.Va? Jesse, you didn’t say this job was for  _ D.Va.  _ Can I get your autograph-”

Jesse gave Lynx a pat on the shoulder. “Meet’n’greet’s are for after she’s out of trouble.”

“Right, right.” They booted up their laptop before stretching, exposing a few inches of their arms, which were skinny and showed more traces of their skin condition. “What I’m going to do is to get you to log in to your private email, Miss D.Va, and I’ll be tracing back the offending email to the server it started in. After that you’ll be able to go about your business as I figure out their name and address. I doubt this particular bit of vermin is counting on anyone with  _ real  _ computer knowledge to find him.”

Hana chewed her lip. “I did have a friend try to trace it, but-”

“Your friend isn’t me, as nice as I’m sure they are,” said Lynx. “But to be fair, very few people  _ are _ like me.”

Lynx’s desktop background turned out to be a rather provocative, and possibly not safe for work, picture of a robot that made Gabriel tilt his head several degrees in confusion, but Lynx was completely unabashed. Jesse just shook his head in a gesture Gabriel took to mean ‘don’t go there.’

“As a warning,” said Lynx loudly, “this won’t take five minutes. It will take awhile. Work like this isn’t like television, so don’t hover over my shoulder.”

Leaving Lynx to do their job, Gabriel went to the living room to stand at the bookshelf, Jesse close behind.

“You know a lot of unusual people,” said Gabriel, reading the spines of the Morricone books. A mixture of paperback and hardcover, each one was immaculate, like they’d hardly been touched. They looked a lot neater than the sorry state of most of Gabriel’s Stephen King novels.

“I’m sure you’ve gathered now I don’t hold with usual,” said Jesse. “You gonna take a stab at those?”

“Hana recommended them.”

Jesse reached out and slid one out of the collection, handing it over.

_ “Deadeye?” _ asked Gabriel, looking at the minimalist cover. A skull with a glowing eye socket.

“S’one of my favourites,” said Jesse casually, before he gave Gabriel’s arm a squeeze. “Hope y’like it.”

Gabriel smiled, heading to his chair. He knew he shouldn’t enjoy a simple touch on the arm so much, but he did all the same.

After a few hours Gabriel was starting to get a better idea about how hacking was apparently as misrepresented on television as most military and action sequences. Eventually Hana grew bored, curling up on the floor to tease the Cat, and Jesse alternated between checking up on Lynx - who was getting increasingly agitated by it - and reading. Or staring at Gabriel while he read, which was just as annoying as his questioning.

He was a few chapters into Deadeye, and rather enjoying it, when there was a chime from Lynx’s computer that sounded to Gabriel like the Power Rangers theme. Lynx had been noisily eating cereal they’d brought with them, and they called for Jesse as they returned to the computer.

“Good news! I’ve finally found his server. This guy was tricky. Bounces the signal all over the world,” they said, putting down the bowl and wiping milk from their lips. “But not like, really tricky, because I have a name and origin right here in Los Angeles.”

Gabriel forced himself up and limped over to squint at the information, which turned out to not mean a damn thing to him.

“So we’ve got an IP address?” said Jesse. “Coordinates?”

“Yeah. Registered to Bartalotti Entertainment Limited.”

Jesse glanced at Hana, who shrugged. 

“Google is your friend,” said Lynx, picking their bowl of cookie crisp. “Let me get this info on a drive for you so I can pack up. I have other jobs to do than to be your personal white hat.”

“Thanks,” said Jesse, pulling out his phone. “Bartalotti Entertainment… it’s a promotional company. Sets up parties, namely for celebrities. After parties for sports teams, movie premiers, concerts… and more recently, gaming events.”

Hana’s eyes went wide. “So that’s them? Someone there?”

“Looks like it. Sounds like one way to get dirt… set up a party, hide up a few cameras, wait for people to act like people,” he said. “Alright, thanks Lynx. Can I call on you if I need you again for this job?”

“I know you’ll need me,” said Lynx, now packing away their things. “I’ve got something for you, though, just in case. Call it my White Rabbit. It’s like a Rubber Ducky but better.”

They pulled out a small white USB stick with a soft silicon bunny covering and put it into Jesse’s hands. “When you said blackmail I figured you’d need a little something special. This will eat all of his files and set up a back door for me to get into their computer so I can snoop around and make sure he doesn’t have anything else on a cloud somewhere. Basically it’s you making me a skeleton key. But be aware of hard copies. Can’t do anything about that.”

Jesse whistled. “This can’t be cheap.”

“It’s not. I’ll bill you in the morning.” They finished loading the canvas grocery bags. “Thanks for the autograph, D.Va. I hope you get the guy that did this.”

“Me too,” she said, before leaning in to give Lynx a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

The hacker was blushing on their way out and Gabriel imagined a chat room would be live with excitement later as Lynx humble-bragged about getting a kiss from an idol.

Jesse had his own laptop back open in a few moments and was back to research, drawing up the Bartalotti Entertainment website. To Gabriel it seemed like mostly promotional shots of various parties they’d done with a handful of testimonials, everything moving lazily in a slideshow. There was a considerable list of coordinators though, as well as photographers, caterers, and security.

“You recognize anyone?” Jesse asked after a few minutes.

Hana shrugged, leaning over his shoulder. “Not really. Well… okay, that’s a lie, I recognize that security guard.”

She pointed to a picture of a massive man at the bottom. Polynesian or Samoan, with long, thick dark hair broken by a streak of white. 

“He was enormous. And hit on a lot of the girls, but I’m not sure if that was him being sly or just his nature.”

“Mauga Tupuola,” said Gabriel. “You think he seems like the kind of guy to cook this up?”

“No idea,” said Hana. “I was just riding the high of winning the world championship. I wasn’t really thinking about anything else.”

“The boss of the place is this dude named Antonio Bartalotti. CEO, does some of the event planning himself,” said Jesse, scrolling through Bartalotti’s twitter history on his phone. “Fancies himself a celebrity in his own way. Big time player, loves rubbing elbows with fancy people, and I am more than willing to bet he’s big with the mob. Looks like he’s building a nightclub. I don’t know if it’s him doing it, but he looks about as smug as they come.”

Bartalotti was a broad man as well, though not nearly as large as Tupuola.  _ The harder they fall, _ thought Gabriel vindictively, hand tightening on his cane.

“So what’s our first move?” asked Hana.

Jesse glanced at Gabriel, then at her. “Well, there’s not much  _ our _ involved. He can’t so much as see you, otherwise he’ll probably go public, whoever this person is. I need to have an idea of what he has on you, so I know what to look for, and then I guess you go about your vacation like nothing’s up. Gabe and I will look into this and I’ll keep you posted. Just remember,  _ whatever you do, _ do  _ not _ indicate to him anything is being done. Pay him. Let him think he’s in control. With any luck we’ll get your money back, too.”

“I’d consider it well paid if it’s the last one,” said Hana grimly. “Think you could kick whoever it is a few times for me?”

Gabriel snorted mirthlessly as he walked away from the computer. Despite not knowing if it really was Antonio Bartalotti, it was him Gabriel’s mind was imagining getting their comeuppance. “I’ll beat him with my cane.”

After a final goodbye to the Cat, Hana hugged them both and promised to keep in touch before slipping out the door. Gabriel went to the window to watch her wait for her taxi, to make sure she got in one alright. He didn’t feel threatened by the neighborhood, but Hana was young and a foreigner. She didn’t deserve to be mugged into the bargain.

Jesse stretched as he got up from the table and went to join Gabriel at the window. His presence was a warm weight against Gabe’s side as he leaned against him. “I hate and love blackmailers,” he said. “They’re worse than a murderer, because they torture their victims and string them along, bleeding them dry and ruining them financially and socially… but at the same time I love them, because they are  _ so much fun _ to outsmart and ruin. And when we take him out, it’s not just Hana and her girlfriend that are safe. It’s everyone. I only wish I could actively tell them all that they don’t have to pay anymore once I’ve thoroughly humiliated whoever’s behind all this.”

“A bullet would be just as quick,” Gabriel muttered, reaching out to pet the Cat, who jumped up on the windowsill to see what was so interesting.

“True,” said Jesse, “but there’s always going to be a poetical justice into seeing them with all of their toys taken away, and their little empire ground to dust.”


	2. Method Acting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to anyone on mobile reading the last chapter. I'm not sure the picture I made of the writing translated well, and when I looked at it, it screwed my phone up completely. It does show up properly on desktop. If anyone had major problems, feel free to let me know and I'll remove it and add the text properly. There's another picture I have for later on, and I want to know before I get to that chapter.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented! You light up my life.
> 
> As a note, I'm not a native Spanish speaker, and in fact don't know more than about five words, but all of the dialogue was run past a friend of mine who does speak Spanish. Translations will be provided at the end of the document, in the end chapter notes!

“Yeah, set up an interview. Insist on it being as soon as possible. I don’t want to wait,” said Jesse, who was wandering a path from his study to the living room and back again. The Cat watched from his perch above Gabriel’s head, ginger tail occasionally whipping to smack Gabriel in the side of the face. “Yeah, I know he’s probably going to be a snot about it, but -  _ HAL.  _ Would you stop for two seconds?”

It had been like this for the better part of fifteen minutes. Gabriel sat with his right leg extended on his foot rest, watching Jesse pace more than reading the book in his hands. He had no idea who Jesse was on the phone with, just their first name and that they apparently talked fast.

There were a few moments of quiet as Jesse listened and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Name drop Hana Song. Say that you met her last time she was in LA, and she’s here to meet with you to discuss an upcoming film.” His back was to Gabriel now, so he couldn’t catch Gabe’s confused and disapproving stare. “Yeah, I’ll have her permission to do that. Just… say you’re looking at, uh… a new Morricone adaption. And you think it’ll be a big hit with the artsy types. Yeah. Yes.  _ Yes. _ Okay. Alright, alright. A sneak peek, I promise. Bye.”

Jesse shook his head as he shoved his phone in his pocket and went to his chair to throw himself in it, the force of his collapse sending the rest straight out and the cowboy flat on his back. He practically sank into the upholstery.

Gabriel put the book aside. “So we’re lying our way in?”

“Do you have another way into a by appointment only building that I don’t know about?” asked Jesse. “Just feel lucky I know a director.”

“You said to use Hana’s name. Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Nah. He won’t know she’s hired us, and another opportunity to get dirt on her will probably rile up whoever the blackmailer is. If it’s not Bartalotti we shouldn’t have even a small issue.” Jesse wiggled his shoulders, getting comfortable, his eyes closed. The mania of a new case hadn’t set in yet. Jesse would need things to get his hands on, a place to break into, for that. He could probably use a nap before the energy hit. “He needs Hana’s name because my guy ain’t what you’d call Oscar material. He’s fun and all, but most of his stuff is pretty B-List. Since she’s a big hit in Korea, and he knows she draws attention from rich sponsors, she’ll seem like a nice prize for Bartalotti to get near again. An investment opportunity, if you will.”

Gabriel had a mental image of a man collecting dolls for his shelves. “So he’s basically in it because he gets off on being friends with celebrities?”

“Pretty much.” Jesse laced his fingers together. “Hal said he’ll call me when he gets an appointment. Which probably means it’ll be like three hou-”

The Alessandroni whistle began to play from his pocket. Jesse’s jaw worked a moment as he pulled out his phone, frowned at the screen, and then answered. “I swear, Hal - oh. Tomorrow, eleven am? Yeah. Nah me and my partner. No you haven’t met him. Alright.”

Jesse hung up the phone and closed his eyes again. “I have a feeling we’ll be watching while they eat brunch and blow smoke up each other’s assholes. How good is your Mexican accent?”

_ “Haga una pregunta estúpida y obtenga una respuesta estúpida.” _

Jesse just smiled.

***

The next morning found Gabriel and Jesse waiting outside the gate of a studio in Burbank that Gabriel had never heard of called Goldshire Pictures. While they weren’t necessarily far from the ‘movie magic’ of Warner Brothers and Disney, Gabriel had noted several porn studios in the vicinity. He wondered if it meant the area rented cheap, or if the director just liked the ambiance.

A Cadillac Escalade pulled up beside them and one heavily tinted window rolled down to reveal a man that made Gabriel wonder if Bela Lugosi and Groucho Marx had been cloned together.

“You two look like the fucking Blues Brothers,” he said, leaning out of the window. Gabriel thought it was a bit rich for him to be criticizing anyone’s outfits, considering he was wearing a straw fedora and a salmon suit. 

“Dan Aykroyd wishes he looked this good,” said Gabriel.

“Like fuck I’m John Belushi,” said Jesse, making Gabe grin and Hal cackle. 

“I like this guy,” said Hal. “Dunno where you picked him up, but I like him. You follow McCree home like a lost puppy?” This made him laugh again, pushing his wire-rim glasses up his nose. His talking voice was confident and steady, but his laugh was a reedy wheeze, possibly from too many cigarettes.

“You’re late, Hal,” said Jesse, stubbing out his cigar. 

“I arrived exactly when I wanted to. Get in. Time’s wasting and I don’t have all day for your fake meeting.” Hal disappeared inside the shadowy interior and the door opened. “C’mon, move it.”

_ Life is never dull, _ he thought.

The Escalade’s interior smelled like menthol cigarettes and febreeze. It had been converted to hold two rows of leather seats in the back, inverted to face each other, which struck Gabriel as odd as he sat down and took stock of his surroundings. Jesse was making a face.

“Really, Hal?”

“What? It rent’s cheap.”

“Did you at least wipe it down?”

The question made the skin on the back of Gabriel’s neck prickle. “Is this thing used for porn?”

Hal shrugged. “Not exactly. I share it with Silvermoon Studios. They mostly do fantasy porn and all that, elves and shit, but they have this for their VIP tours, if y’know what I mean.”

Gabriel pulled his hands over his lap, eyeing the leather and wondering what luminol and a blue light might reveal.

“So who’s this?” Hal gestured at Gabriel with a ring covered hand. Gabriel could see his nails were professionally manicured, and the man’s leather hush puppies were so shiny he could see his reflection in them.

“This is my partner, Gabriel Reyes. Gabriel Reyes, this is Harold Alfredo, head of Goldshire Pictures and Glitchbot FX.”

“Call me Halfred. Or Hal. Jesse calls me Hal,” said Halfred, bouncing his knee. “Jess here, helped me outta a few scrapes, even does some script doctoring for me. Won’t fucking  _ write _ me one, I keep asking, but-”

“Hal,” said Jesse, his tone warning.

Gabriel however was leaning in. “Script doctoring? This guy? He’s a writer?”

“Oi! Jesse, you ain’t told him?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“I write sometimes. I’d  _ rather not _ get into it right now,” said Jesse. “But… if this all works out, I’ll see about writing you the role of a lifetime.” 

Halfred grinned, showing off a golden grill. “Fuck yeah. That’s what I’m talking about. Alright, so this Bartalotti guy? Did some asking around. He’s kind of a scumbag, real sleaze, but he’s got lots of contacts so folks keep him around. I don’t think he thinks  _ I’m _ his kind of people since he’s a fucking snob, but you were right. After I name dropped Hana Song he changed his tune quick. Guess he likes her.”

Jesse and Gabriel shared a look. Bartalotti was starting to sound like their guy, and they hadn’t even met him yet. 

Bartalotti Entertainment was located in one of Los Angeles’s newer highrises on 6th St, and judging by appearances Gabriel would have to guess business was good. After the driver dropped the three of them off - Gabriel checking his pants to make sure he hadn’t tracked anything out of there - Jesse rounded on the two of them.

“Alright. Hal, don’t forget, Gabe and I are your bodyguards. I’m Javier Garcia, been your bodyguard for a few years since I left the amateur MMA circuit. I have a bright and sunny disposition, and am always ready to lay down the law.”

“And what’s  _ my _ story, Javier?” asked Gabriel, the sarcasm heavy on his tongue.

“Easy. You’re my lover and husband, Fernando Garcia, a strong silent type who prefers to speak in his mother tongue. Our love could never be in Puerto Vallarta where we were born and raised in the shadow of Our Lady of Guadalupe, but California really is the land of opportunity.”

Gabriel shook his head, more than a little glad that it was hard to tell if he was blushing. _ “ _ _ Para su información, mi amor, mi familia es de Dorado.” _

Jesse beamed at Gabriel, and at once the southern accent was scrubbed from his voice, instead adopting a faint Mexican accent that reminded Gabriel of his father. Jesse sounded so unlike himself it was unnerving.  _ “Entiendo, mi  _ _ Corazón. _ Lead the way, Hal.”

“Too bad that back story isn’t more believable,” said Hal, climbing the stairs. “I could write a movie about it.”

The lobby was more or less nondescript, even if it  _ was _ fancy. There was no readily available floor directory amongst all the polished granite and the zen fountain in the middle. Instead there was a blonde receptionist with a pixie cut and thick eye makeup next to the elevators, not paying any attention at all as she worked on something at the desk. 

As Hal made his way looking as though he owned the place Gabriel had a quick look around. No security guards, but there were a few cameras. There was probably some security guy in a backroom either watching or falling asleep watching videos on his phone.

The receptionist looked up when Hal let out a sharp whistle, as though he was calling a dog, that made Gabriel glower at his back. She seemed completely unimpressed by it, however, and regarded him cooly. Gabriel had his doubts much ruffled her.

“Can I help you?” There was a false sweetness to her voice.

“Yeah, ring me up for Bartalotti Entertainment, sweetheart,” said Hal. “I’ve got an eleven o’clock with him and time is money.”

She didn’t move for a moment before picking up the phone and holding it to her ear, dialing a number out of view. “Hello Mr. Tupuola. I have a man here to see Mr. Bartalotti. Yes.” She leaned forward. Her words were like honey now, despite the look in her eyes that would see Hal dead.  _ “Name, _ please?”

“Harold Alfredo, and I’d drop the sass, sugarpie.”

She relayed the information a little more cooly, said good-bye, and hung up. She gave them all a fake, beaming smile. “He says wait here.”

“Now miss-”

“He said to wait,” she replied, her tone approaching coldness. “There’s chairs over there.”

She pointed at a lounging area tucked into a corner with several large plastic ferns.

_ “No deberías haberla llamado como un perro,” _ said Jesse, making Gabriel snort.

“I don’t fucking speak Spanish,  _ Javier,”  _ said Hal.

The wait wasn’t long, though Gabriel thought Hal might crawl out of his skin by the time the elevator chimed. Looking even more massive than he did in any of the photographs on the Bartalotti website, Mauga Tupuola stepped out of the lift.

He was a mountain of a man in a tailored Gucci suit, his blood red shirt open throated. Sunglasses pushed back his shaggy mane of black hair, and when Mauga saw them the smile on his face put Gabriel firmly in mind of a predator. He had sharp teeth and dark, assessing eyes that made Gabriel grip his cane a little harder. 

_ I sincerely hope this doesn’t end in a punch up, because he looks like he could bench press Reinhardt, _ thought Gabriel, looking up into Tupuola’s face.

“The name’s Mauga,” he said, his stance casual, relaxed, but it didn’t reach his eyes whatsoever. “I run security for Mr. Bartalotti. He likes to make sure his guests are all attended for, and since his girls are out right now you get the pleasure of my company on the way up. You must be Mr. Alfredo?”

“Hal,” said Halfred, getting to his feet. “And these are my men. I’ve gotten a few threats lately over some misunderstandings, and Javier and his man here keep me looked after.”

Jesse bowed his head, still in his unnerving accent. “At your service.”

Gabriel grunted, deciding if he was a man of few words he didn’t need to offer the customer service niceties. 

Mauga turned his gaze on Gabriel in a slow assessment. Whatever he saw made him smirk before he turned and waved his hand, beckoning their group to follow. Gabriel noticed tattoos, black and intricate, on his wrist.

“You’re a big fucking guy. Why aren’t you playing football?” asked Hal.

“This pays well without the hassles of fame,” he said casually. “Did you watch last nights game?”

“You bet your ass I did. Nothing makes me happier than seeing the Saints get put down. When Hill got tackled-”

Mauga chuckled. “My man Donald did quite the number on him.”

Gabriel began to tune them out. He’d never been one for American football. His family had always been bigger on soccer and basketball.

Mauga seemed to take up the room of several people in the elevator. Gabriel stood stock straight by the controls, his eyes on Mauga, which only amused the Samoan. For Gabriel, though, this was easy and familiar. The role of security wasn’t a hard one for him to adopt. It was even comforting.

They departed on the twenty-fifth floor, which had a small directory of just three businesses. While plain and nondescript on the outside, inside Bartalotti Entertainment was just as trendy as the website. A flat screen television had many of the same shots playing on a continuous slide show, there was faint music on the speakers, and the wide reception area was filled with brightly coloured and, to Gabriel, uncomfortable looking modern couches. On all of the coffee tables there were rental guides and packs of colour swatches. 

“Hello!” This receptionist had red hair coiffed not unlike a 1950’s pinup and was dressed to match in a midi skirt and tie-neck blouse. She didn’t have a desk, though, just a tablet in one hand, a stylus in the other, and a bluetooth earpiece. “You must be Mr. Alfredo.”

Hal put on a charming smile and reached out to take her hand. She let him, giggling as he kissed it, and Gabriel saw him wink over her wrist before he let her have it back. “Pleased t’make your aquaintance…?”

“You may call me Madison. We apologize, we’re fairly busy this weekend with several jobs so we’re a little understaffed, but Mr. Bartalotti made sure to make time for you Mr. Alfredo.” She lead them to a set of frosted glass doors and input a password on a keypad before letting them through. “His office is right this way.”

“Does Mr. Bartalotti usually cover all of the design?” asked Hal amicably.

“While he does have people who help the client find exactly what they need, Mr. Bartalotti is invested in making sure each party has his own personal touch and is exactly what the client desires.”

_ I’ll bet, _ thought Gabriel, following along behind. 

A look at Jesse showed a serious expression. Though most would only see Jesse’s shades, from this angle he could see Jesse’s eyes were constantly on the move, cataloguing everything about his surroundings, noting threats and drawbacks that Gabriel wouldn’t see. While Mauga certainly was a threat all in his own - leading the way next to Madison, like a massive mobile bulwark - Gabriel found himself imagining everything that Jesse saw. 

It always struck him, now and again, what an odd life he’d found himself falling into ever since he’d met Jesse in that forensics lab. That day he’d been angry about group, angry about almost everything in his life. A stubborn, childish voice inside of him had been crying ‘ _ not fair!’ _ while it had rattled the cages inside of him, stuck in a mundane life he hadn’t been prepared for with no money and nowhere to go. Now he was waking up curious at what was going to happen, at what he’d see or learn.

Real life still happened, of course. There was still grocery shopping and doctors appointments, group therapy and one on one with Orisa, going to have dinner with Mariana, Diego and the kids every Sunday. There was physical therapy, going to the bank and ruminating over the fact he’d have to get a job soon, paying bills. All of these things were muted points in time, the colours filtered and washed out. 

Other moments?

He looked at Jesse, who had tilted his head slightly to look up into the corners.

Those moments were almost painfully bright.

Mauga opened a set of thick doors ahead of them. Bartalotti had taken up residence in the corner office, and the outer walls from floor to ceiling were glass, giving a beautiful view of the city around them. There were couches to sit at, a mini bar to one side stacked with crystal decanters and a wine rack, as well as a frosty looking pitcher of lemon water. The desk at the center was massive, modern, in stained dark wood, and free of paper. Just tablets for Mr. Bartalotti it seemed.

The man himself stood behind the desk with what looked like a mimosa in one hand. His hair was close shaved at the sides into a fine fuzz, and the rest of his hair brushed back and styled. His beard was trimmed, well kept. Like Madison, he had a bluetooth headset in one ear, and like Mauga he was dressed in what was probably a several thousand dollar suit.

Gabriel hated him on sight.

“Welcome, Mr. Alfredo. And welcome to your companions,” he said graciously, not moving forward to shake any hands. “I trust you found everything to your liking?”

Hal nodded. “Fancy place you got. I know I’ve come to the right man for what I need. You’ve got taste, Mr. Bartalotti.”

“Call me an Antonio,” he said, gesturing at the chair across from his desk. “Would you care for a mimosa?”

“Then call me Hal, or Halfred. And something stronger, perhaps, if you don’t mind. Don’t worry about my men, they’re on the clock.”

Antonio chuckled. “Indeed.”

Hal turned to look at the two of them, then at Mauga. “I don’t normally have my security guys breathing down my neck when I’m trying to set up a proper party, and I’m fairly certain you don’t have a reason to toss me out the window. Do you mind if I send them back to the reception area? You’d think for a couple of gay guys they’d have good taste, but you can see how they dress.”

Gabriel’s jaw tightened. Mauga snorted audibly, and Antonio chuckled graciously. “Of course. Mauga, why don’t you show these two back? Madison, perhaps pour us a few glasses of the Jacopo Poli?”

Mauga once again bowed them through the door, but the atmosphere felt different when the door clicked shut behind them. Perhaps without Madison there he was comfortable, letting his smile slip from warm and accommodating to that hyena’s smirk he’d had before, or perhaps Gabriel just felt more in tune with less people around. That leer was there, though, sizing both he and Jesse up.

“So, a couple of gay guys then?” said Mauga, amused as he walked past them. “You don’t often hear about  _ that _ in the security business. It tends to be like the military. No one asks.”

Gabriel glanced at Jesse, who offered a small smile in return.

“No one usually does ask,” said Jesse, sounding like a completely different person. “Hal didn’t hire us for diversity.”

Mauga chuckled. “And what did he hire you for, then? In your boyfriend I see a man of the military. Says no words, stands at attention, and hiding a lot of bulk under that suit. In you I don’t see that at all. You might be strong, but you’re softer.” Mauga turned to look back at them over his shoulder, his grin wide enough to show very sharp canines. “Though I imagine looks can be deceiving.” 

“I’ll take your word for it,” said Jesse.

_ “Metiches,” _ said Gabriel. While Jesse looked amicable enough, Gabriel knew that Jesse was likely seething inwardly.

Mauga didn’t reply to that, waving them into the reception area once more.

“There is coffee, tea, and all that shit over there,” he said, with a hand wave at a station to the side. Clearly Mauga didn’t think the two of them needed to be impressed with flowery language. “If you need something, text your boss and I’ll come get you.”

With that, Mauga returned to the hall, letting the frosted glass door swing shut.

Jesse waited a few seconds before snorting. “Asshole.”

Gabriel grinned.  _ “Que hacemos ahora?” _ he asked, now that they were alone.

_ “Perdón? Mantente en el personaje.” _

Gabriel rolled his eyes.  _ “Que hacemos ahora, mi amor?” _

Mollified, Jesse pulled something from his pocket. A tiny white USB stick with a little silicon rabbit. He wiggled it back and forth with two fingers before slipping it back into his pocket.

“From what I can see there aren’t any microphones about the place, though that doesn’t mean anything,” said Jesse. “But considering he has people following everyone’s every move, he always has someone to report back what his clients are saying. Besides, he’s not going to get the real dirt here.”

“A paranoid blackmailer,” said Gabriel.

“It’s a venture of paranoia,” said Jesse. “But the kind of money he’s putting into this place makes me think his business is in a lot more than party rentals, meet and greets, and bleeding people dry.”

“Why’d he leave us alone then?”

“Because now all he sees are two gay men. Hal dropped the gay mention so that brick wall and Antonio wouldn’t think we’re threats. He’s not being an asshole. I mean he is an asshole, but he’s sly about it.”

Jesse tested the handle to the hallway door, but it was locked. Gabriel could see four of the keys - 2378 - were well worn with use.

Jesse scratched his head a moment. “That’s twenty four possibilities,” he said. “And there’s probably a fail safe or an alarm if you enter a few wrong answers. So…”

He pressed the star key three times, then began pressing the zero button. He then added two nines and the pound key. With a click, the door opened. Jesse smiled like a cat with cream, pushing the door open before hitting the star key one last time.

“What,” said Gabriel, as Jesse let himself through.

“Not everyone turns off their default admin passwords,” said Jesse. “Bartalotti and friends might not even know the function’s still there, because they aren’t coding the security system, so I figured it was worth a shot. I’m sure with a few minutes I could have figured out the proper pin, but this is easier and wastes less time. God bless lazy networkers.”

In the hallway they dropped their voices considerably. Bartalotti’s office was down at the end of the hall, both doors closed. Fortunately Mauga was on the inside of it.

“His doors are soundproofed, but I don’t want to take the risk,” said Jesse in a murmur. “He obviously doesn’t discuss just parties there, but I doubt it’s anything too serious otherwise his meeting room would be in the center of the building.”

“Yeah, guess he’s not too worried about lasers,” said Gabriel.

“Oh, I’m impressed,” said Jesse with a grin.

“I did Spec Ops. We’re more likely to use a laser to listen to a conversation than a ‘secret agent.”

“I bet you’d be a hot James Bond, though.”

Gabriel felt the back of his neck heat up.

Jesse picked the office of the one person Gabriel would least like to piss off. Seeing  _ Mauga Tupuola _ painted on the frosted glass gave him a roll of anxiety, but Jesse looked at the keypad.

“Juvenile,” he said, then entered ‘9999’ on the keypad. Once again, the door clicked open. 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow as Jesse let them into the office. This one was much smaller than Antonio’s, and more personal. There was a mixture of football and soccer memorabilia, a few photos with celebrities, a signed LA Rams jersey on the wall.

“Sports fans should think more outside the box,” said Jesse.

Mauga’s desk was a little more cluttered with files and electronics, and there was a laptop in the middle. Jesse opened it at once, pulling it out of sleep mode, and slipped the White Rabbit into the USB port.

Jesse pressed a button on his bluetooth. “Thumper.”

Gabriel only wondered who that was for a moment before crouching by the door to keep an eye on the hall. No doubt Lynx had been waiting for this.

“How long do you need?” asked Jesse, as the White Rabbit blinked. “This is the head of security. I could probably get into the server room, but - yeah that’s what I thought. Oh good.”

Gabriel glanced back at Jesse. “That thing doing its job?”

“Yep. Thumper’s making the self a nice little burrow, says they’re glad Mauga keeps the place so clean. Additional malware can slow the process. Should only need a few minutes.”

Gabriel continued to crouch despite the ache in his knee, staring at the doors and wishing he could see a shadow under the door of Bartalotti’s office. The soundproofing meant there was no indication of what could be happening there. 

When he saw the handle of Bartalotti’s office twitch he didn’t wait to warn Jesse, standing at once and slipping out of Mauga’s office. He was in the middle of the hall in a moment, adopting a confused expression as he walked towards Bartalotti’s, craning his head back and forth like he was looking for something.

When the door ahead opened with a crest of noise - Hal’s reedy wheeze next to Antonio’s rich, deeper laugh - he looked bewilderedly at Mauga, who stepped into the hall.

The door clicked shut. Gabriel held his expression while Mauga’s darkened. That not-friendly smile was gone, replaced by an expression Gabriel knew very well. He’d seen it on plenty of the psychopaths who’d wormed their way through the mental evaluations, joining the military in some form or another. Forcing themselves to give a shit about team players so they could get to the real goal. Violence.

Gabriel was perfectly familiar with violence. He wasn’t antisocial or borderline, or diagnosed with anything more than the PTSD he was carrying around with him now. But he knew perfectly well how to take all of those normal human emotions, like the reluctance to do harm, and bottle them for later. He felt himself compartmentalizing as he looked up at Mauga just then, ready for anything.

“And just what are you doing back here?” asked Mauga in a tone devoid of the levity he’d had before.

“Bathroom,” Gabriel replied.

“Ah, so he does speak English,” said Mauga. “How did you get past the doors at reception?”

“Open.”

Not the answer he was expecting, clearly. His face darkened a little further, looming over Gabriel. The man before him was over seven foot tall,making Gabriel feel positively tiny. This close Gabriel could smell the alcohol he’d been drinking. All Mauga had to do was grab him and Gabriel probably wouldn’t be able to prevent most of the damage he could do. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you? I didn’t catch your name.”

_ Doubtful, _ he thought, trying to remember what Jesse had named him. “Garcia.”

“Hmm.”

Down the hall to their left, several lights began to strobe, as if there was something wrong with them. Mauga growled in his throat, turning to stomp down the hallway towards it. 

“And let me guess, your boyfriend is down here, hmm?” He looked left and right, reminding Gabriel of a lion on the hunt. “Looking for the bathroom too?”

Gabriel didn’t turn when he heard the soft sound of a door opening behind him. Instead he watched Mauga rattle at a few doors and peer through windows for shadows before the lights went back to normal.

“Reception,” said Gabriel, turning back towards it.  _ “Lo siento. _ ”

He’d only taken a few steps when Mauga was on him, gripping his wrist tightly. It was a hard thing not to react at once. Even with the size of the other man Gabriel wanted to rise to the challenge and dislocate the Samoan’s elbow.

“If the other homo isn’t there,” said Mauga, his voice dark in Gabriel’s ear, “we’re going to have a long and uncomfortable talk.”

He thought about bearing the humiliation for a moment, but Gabriel’s eyes darkened and he took a step back and relaxed his arm before turning it sharply out of Mauga’s grip. 

_ “Si vuelve a hacer eso, tendremos un problema,” _ he promised.

Mauga snorted and made an ‘after you’ gesture with his hand.

He didn’t dare glance at Mauga’s office as he passed, instead playing up his limp a little to make Mauga think he had an advantage. He was already imagining the things he might do. Gabriel knew full and well planning had very little to do with a fight, but if he could use his cane to dislocate a knee or break a few ribs he’d have the upper hand.

They came to the door -  _ please, Jesse, please -  _ and opened it to see Jesse sprawled on a couch with a coffee and a magazine full of party rentals.

_ “Encontraste el baño?” _ asked Jesse, turning a page without looking up.  _ “Creo que me gustaría el turquesa para el color de nuestra boda. Pero el rojo también se ve bien.” _

_ Do not laugh, _ he thought, stepping inside.  _ “No, no lo hice.” _

Jesse looked up, eyes sliding between Mauga and Gabriel. “I’m going to guess the bathroom isn’t that way?”

“It’s not,” said Mauga sharply, before stepping into the room and checking the door suspiciously. “It’s outside of the offices, in the hall, unless you’ve been invited inside by staff.”

Gabriel shrugged, heading towards the exit. Jesse winked at him as he passed.

Mauga left with a growl of his own, leaving Gabriel to wonder why exactly Antonio needed someone so ready to kill on security, when all he did was organize events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Haga una pregunta estúpida y obtenga una respuesta estúpida." - "Ask a stupid question and get a stupid answer."
> 
> “Para su información, mi amor, mi familia es de Dorado.” - "For your information, my love, my family is from Dorado."
> 
> "Entiendo, mi Corazón." - "I understand, my heart."
> 
> "No deberías haberla llamado como un perro." - "You shouldn't have called her like a dog."
> 
> "Metiches." - "Nosy."
> 
> "Que hacemos ahora?" - "What do we do now?"
> 
> "Perdón? Mantente en el personaje." - "Sorry? Stay in character."
> 
> "Que hacemos ahora, mi amor." - "What do we do now, my love?"
> 
> "Lo siento." - "I'm sorry."
> 
> "Si vuelve a hacer eso, tendremos un problema." - "If you do that again, we will have a problem."
> 
> "Encontraste el baño? Creo que me gustaría el turquesa para el color de nuestra boda. Pero el rojo también se ve bien." - "Did you find the bathroom? I think I would like turquoise for the colour of our wedding, but red looks good too."
> 
> "No, no lo hice." - "No I did not."
> 
> (I think that was everything. As always, thank you for reading)


	3. Viewpoint

Freeing themselves from Halfred hadn’t been an easy task. After the meeting with Bartalotti, which had concluded under strict supervision in the reception area and had involved more colour swatches and flower arrangements than Gabriel thought possible for an event that  _ wasn’t _ a wedding, Halfred had wanted to provide not his own colourful commentary, but a play by play breakdown of why he thought Bartalotti was scum with a secret.

Jesse at least considered it valuable, though Gabriel had trouble keeping up. Jesse seemed to be able to navigate Hal’s thinking processes well enough that he’d managed a solid debriefing and they both were able to build a foundation for both the company and Bartalotti himself.

Halfred wasn’t wrong, at least. Bartalotti was hiding something.

Once they’d freed themselves from the last of the rant back in Burbank and called for a rideshare, Jesse had texted both Hana and Lynx for a meet up to talk about what they’d found so far. When Gabriel had heard it was a cafe his mind was set on the idea of an americano, somewhere mellow he could stretch out before heading home for the day to plan the next stage with Jesse. Where they ended up going was the sort of store he’d never pictured himself in.

“Which one of them picked it?” he asked, glancing at Jesse.

“I did. Lynx took me here once,” said Jesse cheerfully. “C’mon. Hana got here about twenty minutes ago.”

Sweet Dreams Bubble Tea was located just off of the UCLA campus, and it wasn’t the kind of place Gabriel would have gone into unprompted. The cafe was trendy to a point that left him feeling more or less culture shocked as they walked in. Still dressed like the Blues Brothers, as Hal told them, Gabriel felt extremely out of place among the chattering university students and the baby blue and bubble gum pink decor, and Jesse looked particularly hilarious with his cowboy hat.

“What do you want?” asked Jesse, turning to look at Gabriel, who stared up at the menu board feeling cowed. Everything was in pastel block-lettering, in English and Japanese, and also accompanied by different smiling mascots with too-big black eyes. Smoothies, milkshakes, teas, coffees, and plenty of food he’d never tried in his life. His niece would probably love the place. Everything there looked like blended diabetes in a cup.

“Just… don’t get me anything disgusting,” he told Jesse.

“Can do. Hana’s in the corner with the big hat and sunglasses,” replied the cowboy. “I’ll be right back.”

Hana waved at him when he looked around for her. She was dressed to blend in, with a wide sun hat and round, rose-tinted sunglasses. Like before, she looked so put together Gabriel would guess she’d stepped out of a catalogue.

She made room at the table for him, shifting a plate of what looked like fish-shaped cakes and a tall cup of something frothy and green out of the way.

“You two look weird,” said Hana, wrinkling her nose. “Why are you two dressed like fake bodyguards?”

“We were undercover. You would have absolutely adored Jesse’s director friend. He was about as charming as a kick in the nuts.”

Hana snorted, picking up her drink and taking a long sip. “So did you find anything out?”

Gabriel watched several dark lumps travel up the thick straw of her drink. “We -”  _ concentrate. _ “Jury’s still deliberating.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t deliberate long. I got that email Jesse figured I would this morning.”

“What is your drink full of,” he asked, pointing at the unappetizing mass of black at the bottom. As angry as he was at the idea of Bartalotti or someone similar making threats at Hana, that detail could not be ignored anymore.

“Tapioca,” she said. 

“They look like fish eggs.”

“They’re not! Try.” She brandished the smoothie at him and he took it, trying to decide if he was going to bow to peer pressure and sheer curiosity, or if he was going to dig in his heels and say it was too much.

“I dunno.”

“Don’t be a coward.”

He didn’t want to be goaded by a teenager, but he also didn’t want to be  _ that guy _ who was unwilling to try new things. He took a sip of the offered smoothie and processed the taste with a grimace. The mouthful of chewy slime did nothing to make it better and he put the drink on the table as he resisted the urge to spit the pearls into a napkin.

“That tastes like grass,” he said once he’d managed to swallow it. “Why are you drinking grass?”

“It’s matcha,” said Hana, laughing at him. “Matcha and cream cheese, to be exact.”

“It’s grass,” he said.

“Guess you aren’t a big tea guy.”

“No, I drink tea. But my tea doesn’t taste like it just clipped out of a lawn.” He worked his tongue around his mouth, trying to clear the taste.

Another person sat down with them. Their outfit was so different from the other day it took Gabriel a moment to recognize Lynx. This time the colour of the day was pink, though Lynx’s hair was still teal. They were dressed in an over-baggy hoodie, complete with cat ears and fluffy paws on the ends of the draw strings. Lynx’s glasses were now heart shaped, and their nails painted to match. They were still wearing track pants and Nikes, but they matched the rest of the ensemble. 

“Cute outfit!” said Hana, which made Lynx smile.

“I let you inspire it today,” they replied, taking a sip of their drink, clearly pleased when Hana flushed with pleasure at the compliment. “I should be at home finishing up, but Jesse asked for this meet and greet before I disappear for a few days on his project. I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to hang out with you again.” They put a board game on the table. “Jenga?”

“Oh, yeah!” Hana leaned forward as Lynx began to set up a tower of blocks.

Jesse returned to the table with two tall cups and handed Gabriel’s over with a little smile. Gabriel tried not to think about how their fingers brushed and instead examined the drink. He was more than a little thankful to see his didn’t have lumps of slime in the bottom, though he had no idea what was in it, and sniffed at it suspiciously.

“It’s safe,” said Jesse. “Something t’make your teeth wiggle. Coffee, chocolate, cinnamon. Stuff you like.” 

Somewhat mollified, he took a sip. It was like a latte, thick and rich, though it was very sweet. Still, it wasn’t grass. 

“Thanks.”

Jesse winked at him.

“So what did you find out?” asked Hana as she took off her hat and leaned towards the tower of blocks.

“Do you want what I found or what Mr. McCree found, because those are two very different things,” said Lynx, slowly sliding a block free. 

“Um…”

Jesse set his own hat to the side and scanned their surroundings, but he looked at ease. It was loud enough even the next table would have trouble understanding their conversation. “Well, my impressions so far involve the only people we’ve met. Antonio is an absolute creep and possibly a psychopath, Mauga  _ is _ a psychopath, and Madison is a sweet girl who probably has no idea who she’s working for. Hal says another guy stopped in named Vialli, but unfortunately because Tall, Dark, and Treacherous decided we needed babysitters after he caught Gabriel in the hall I never got a peek at him.”

Lynx watched as Hana removed a block, their eyes intent. “Well, I did get a quick look at them all, and I have all the employee records. I did notice a Vialli on the list and I can look him up for you. I’m still combing through their files. I have a bot making a list of suspicious things for me to look at personally. But,” they reached out to take another block, “there is so far no sign of any blackmail material on a company server.”

“Damn,” said Hana, looking crestfallen.

“That isn’t to say there isn’t some strange activity on the server, though,” said Lynx reassuringly. “And I’m looking at different pictures to ensure they aren’t hiding files or videos inside of them. That’s an old trick, but a good one. Sadly, everything seems like it’s the right size. But on the bright side no one has any idea that I’m basically in control of their entire mainframe.”

“Thanks for the light show to get me out safe, by the way,” said Jesse.

Lynx smiled. “It was easy. Absolutely everything in that office is controlled digitally with a ‘Butler AI,” they made air quotes before taking a sip of their drink, “named Sonya. It’s like Alexa, only both smarter and dumber. Smarter in that it doesn’t feed back to a big database for Amazon, dumber because it was very easy to bypass it and delete any voice logs I didn’t want them reading. But seriously, I could look into any camera I wanted in that place, no problem. The lights and the thermostat are even easier.”

Gabriel thought for a moment, sipping at his drink. “So are you confident that Bartalotti is the one taking advantage of people?”

“If he’s not I’ll be pretty fucking surprised,” said Jesse. “His personality screams it. But there’s a lot going on in that place, a lot more than just an entertainment company. Lynx and I will run over everything tonight and we’ll make a plan of attack.”

Hana looked between the two of them. “He emailed me this morning. The blackmailer. He even raised his asking amount.”

“Just do what I said, sweetheart,” said Jesse sympathetically. 

“I already did,” she sighed, and picked up one of her fish cookies and took a bite. “Now that you have the employees, how long until you know who has it in particular?”

“Like I said, Lynx and I will go over it all.” Jesse nudged Lynx with his elbow when he judged it safe to do so. “You up for an all-nighter?”

“Mm. Sure. I got a few hours of sleep last night,” said Lynx nonchalantly. “It’ll fit in nicely with my Doctor Who marathon.”

That left Gabriel with nothing to do. It wasn’t his night to go see Mariana, or Group, or Orisa. All he could think of was finishing his blog entry and having a quiet night in with the Cat. Without Jesse the night seemed like it would be boring, to be honest.

“You like Doctor Who, right Gabe?” asked Jesse, who was now leaning forward to help with the jenga tower. 

The prospect of an invite suddenly made the evening look bright. “Never seen it.”

“Sadly, I will have to say no,” said Lynx, watching Jesse slowly remove the block. “After the last time I am only allowed one visitor at a time.”

Gabriel felt his heart sink, and didn’t like knowing the reason why, either.

“Your landlady’s a kook,” said Jesse, setting the block carefully.

“You set the bathtub on fire.”

“To prove a point!”

Hana slid a block free from the tower, which sent it crashing down to the table top. “ **젠장!** No fair!”

Gabriel shook his head and took another drink of his coffee. “I suppose I’ll find something to do,” he said, remembering the message he’d received earlier from JR85. He  _ had _ said if work hadn’t gone over he’d let him know.

***

**[SMS From ** Jack **]:** Did I read that right? Did you just say you were going to go on a date?

**[SMS From ** Jack **]: ** Please do not say it’s with McCree.

Gabriel could hear the disbelief in his head and rolled his eyes as he looked at his closet. His leg was smarting, but Gabriel had ditched the cane and was currently looking over and again into his closet to find something suitable.

**[SMS To ** Jack **]: ** Not that it’s any of your damn business but no, it’s not with McCree.

Writing that down probably shouldn’t have felt so awful, but Gabriel stared at the message he’d sent, and the little check marks saying Jack had read it, for a little longer than he ought to.

The phone rang a moment later and Jack’s name appeared on the screen, his photo a blank gray silhouette. Gabriel hadn’t wanted a picture of him on his contacts, and it caused a weird feeling now.

“What?” he asked after he answered, setting it to speaker before he tossed the phone on the bed and resumed his search.

“So if I installed Grindr then, I’d see you there?”

“No, because I’d left swipe your pasty ass.

“That’s Tinder,” said Jack with a laugh.

“I’d left swipe you there too,” he said, and pulled out a flannel shirt. “How casual is too casual for a coffee thing?”

“Any of your ripped up Metallica shirts.”

Gabriel looked down at himself and pulled the graphic tee away from his body to get a look at it. While Dreamtheater  _ wasn’t _ Metallica, he supposed it was in the same vein, and pulled it off, tossing it in the laundry basket.

The Cat, who’d been watching from the dresser, dove into the basket to investigate.

“So where is McCree?” asked Jack after a few moments of silence. “Starting to climb the walls for a case?”

“I don’t think that’s your business,” he said, dismissing a button up.

“Gabe, I’m just making conversation. I’m not calling you because I think he’s dodging parole. You don’t have to bite my head off every time I ask after him.”

_ Don’t I? _ He thought. He’d ripped a strip off of Jack over the way he’d sent Jesse off just so he could lecture Gabriel that first night, months ago. Ever since then whenever Jack mentioned McCree’s name when it wasn’t strictly business he felt himself get prickly in his roommate’s defense. 

But Jack had been keeping his distaste and lectures to himself, at least. Possibly because of how many cases he and Jesse had closed. Or, well. That Jesse had closed. Gabriel always sort of felt like the tag along.

“So who’s the lucky guy, anyway?”

Gabriel looked at a sweater he owned. Mariana had made him buy it. A dark teal, something she said that could go over a button-up if he wanted. He’d thought it a waste of money, but let her buy it anyway since it had only been four dollars at the thrift store. He pulled it off the hanger.

“Uh… a middle school teacher,” he said, pulling the sweater over his head. “Grade eight science I think. He was the first guy who didn’t open up the conversation with ‘hey wanna see my junk?”

Jack snorted. 

“I’m serious,” said Gabriel. He turned left and right in the mirror.  _ Good enough, _ he guessed. “It’s like these guys see a late forties, muscular latino guy and just lose all sense of control.”

“You’re a good looking guy.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to open a conversation looking at the sad, sorry sack between their legs.” 

Jack dissolved into giggles a moment, making Gabriel smile as he walked to the bed, lifting the Cat out of the basket out of the way. He sat down, scratching the Cat behind the ears.

The sound of Jack’s laughter took him back. It made him nostalgic for those early days they’d shared in the marines, as friends and as boyfriends. Life had seemed really simple back then, even if the military would have discharged them if they’d found out about their relationship.

_ We were pretty good, Jack, _ he didn’t say.  _ What happened? _

A voice outside of the call sounded on Jack’s end. He heard the muffled reply to Vincent as Jack covered the receiver and sighed to himself, looking up at the mirror.

Lined, scarred, and angry looking. He had resting bitch face, as Mariana fondly called it. It only hid more anger and aggression beneath it, an inability to switch off or let go.

_ I did, _ he thought.  _ I happened. _

On the heels of that,  _ I bet Jesse would hit me if I said that out loud. _

“I gotta go.”

“Alright, me too. See you. And good luck on your date, Gabriel. You deserve good things.”

The line went dead and the call display shut off. Gabriel stroked his fingers through the Cat’s fur, who raised his tail before jumping off of his lap, leaving plenty of evidence behind.

“You bastard, look at my pants.”

The Cat meowed, completely unrepentant, as he left the room.

***

The cafe that his date had recommended was decidedly different from Sweet Dreams Bubble Tea. It was nestled between a twenty-four hour laundromat and a florist, the brick front painted white, and the window dominated by a minimalist graphic of a bag of coffee and the name of the cafe, Social Grounds.

Gabriel glanced at his watch. He was a few minutes early.

_ Okay, _ he thought, blowing out a slow breath as he tried to quell the tremor in his left hand.  _ Just text Jesse, go in, and take this one step at a time. No one is saying you’re gonna have to sleep with this guy. Just make conversation. _

**[SMS To ** Jesse **]: ** Just in case he turns out to be a serial killer that wants to make a lampshade out of me, I’m going out with someone named James Ried. He’s a school teacher I met off Grindr. We’re meeting for coffee at Social Grounds in Palms.  **[Pin]**

He wondered if he was doing the right thing as he hit send. Jesse didn’t seem to waste much time reading the text either, the two checkmarks appearing almost immediately, but he didn’t reply. Either he was busy or he didn’t approve.

The thought caused a twist of anxiety in Gabriel’s stomach.

Still, he couldn’t stand in the chill fall air forever.

The cafe was fashioned in an industrial style, with black painted walls, pine countertops, galvanized metal, and exposed lightbulbs in all their light fixtures. Instead of Asian pop music playing on the speakers it was Amy Winehouse singing about how she was trouble. While the look of the place felt more familiar Gabriel still didn’t quite feel comfortable there the way he would have in a simple bar. At least the aroma of coffee beans smelled good, which was one small point in the places favour. Hopefully their roasts would be satisfactory.

_ Jesse can come here and we can people watch, _ he thought.

Gabriel scanned the tables, noting a very specific clientele. A hipster bar, then. Thick-framed black glasses, more than a few artfully styled moustaches, high comb overs and flannel seemed to be the staple fashion.

In the back corner at a red upholstered booth he spotted a wave. James was already there, then, leaving Gabriel no more time to gather his thoughts and steady himself.

_ Coffee first. Fill the vessel. Problems come after. _ Gabriel wasn’t sure why, but he was starting to regret the decision to come to Social Grounds.

“Glad you could make it,” said James, smiling up at Gabriel as he set his coffee down and shrugged off his leather jacket. “What did you order?”

“An Americano. I’ve become a bit of a coffee snob in the last few months, so I hope they’re good,” he replied, sliding into the booth across from him. “I’m glad you could make time for me. It was kind of short notice.”

“I finished my grading early, and this is pretty much the best day of the week for me. So… you changed your mind. I’m pretty pleased about that, but I am curious why?”

Gabriel met James’s eyes. Blue, earnest. A piece of him insisted they ought to be brown, the internal voice loud enough that Gabriel was almost disappointed by the observation. Still, he was clean shaven, good looking, bookish, and well dressed. He certainly fit the part of a school teacher at first glance.

“Uh… well, I just had an open night.” He turned his coffee cup a few times on the glossy tabletop. “And, I’ll be honest, I’ve had one or two people on my case to meet people.”

_ Only one or two.  _

“You said you just left the marines? I guess that’s not an easy transition.”

Gabriel shook his head and sipped his coffee. “It wasn’t at first. I’m getting the hang of it now. And I guess I have been wanting to get out there a bit.”

James nodded. “I hear you. I’ve been itching to meet some new people too, and when you didn’t just send me a dirty picture… well. It seemed like a good call.”

Gabriel smiled at that.  _ Okay, well, that’s something we have in common. _

Using that as a basis, they started a conversation about their trials and tribulations using Grindr and Tinder, though James said he didn’t use the latter because there weren’t enough gay men there. Gabriel found the conversation fairly easy and humorous, but felt himself holding back from some of his jokes, and he couldn’t say why. James was animated, gesturing freely with his hands as he told a story, all smiles. But he wasn’t -

_ (Jesse) _

\- interesting.

Regardless of his own trepidations, eventually his drink was empty and he felt in no rush to leave. Gabriel’s left hand remained more or less steady on the tabletop. 

A question about what Gabriel was doing for work had him looking down. “I’m… not doing much of anything. I’ve still got a tiny bit of money saved up, but I will be looking for a real job soon. Right now I just kind of help out my roommate sometimes, he’s a PI.”

“Really? You know, when I hear private investigator I just think of Sam Spade or Philip Marlowe… you know, fedoras, turned up collars, chain smoking.”

“He’s not like that at all, honestly,” said Gabriel. For the first time that night the smile on his face felt natural. This was an easy subject. “To be honest he was absolutely as far from a stereotype as you can get.”

James chuckled, then looked at the time. James’s watch caught the light when he gestured with his hand and Gabriel’s eyes followed it. An Apple watch, expensive and new. His hands were soft. Teaching wasn’t easy work, but there was nothing rough or dirty about his hand.

Gabriel’s eyes honed in on a minute detail and he felt something shift in his chest.

“Jeez, I can’t believe it’s so late. I bet this place closes soon,” said James. “There’s a bar not far from here I really like. Straight, but… not bad ambiance. You want to go for a drink?”

He met James’s eyes again. The other man’s pupils were dilated, and Gabriel hadn’t missed any of the lingering looks that the other man had given him. It was obvious where this would go - or where James would want it to go - once drinks were involved. And Gabriel wasn’t always good at saying no when he got drunk. It had been a long time since he’d been touched that way.

It would be easy.

Gabriel blew out a breath. “That coffee went… right through me. Can you hold that thought and give me a moment?”

“Yeah, no problem,” said James, folding his hands in front of himself. “Time sure flies, huh?”

“Yeah,” said Gabriel, slipping out of the booth and feeling distracted. Despite the fact that the room was relatively quiet, everything felt very, very loud.

***

It could have ended better, but it certainly could have been worse.

_ I bet that one makes the top five, _ he thought, making his way to the bus stop. At least it was early enough in the evening that he’d be able to take the Metro Expo Line back to 221B and have a few well earned drinks. It had just been that kind of fucking day.

At first when Gabriel heard the footsteps behind him, he’d thought James had decided to come around with something else to say, but before Jesse even spoke a word Gabriel knew it was him by the sound of his breath and the scent of his cigar.

“I thought you were with Lynx, not stalking me on my dates,” said Gabriel, not stopping, but slowing down for Jesse to walk next to him. He wasn’t accusing, though. He was glad to have the other man with him. 

“Well, we got some information. I wanted to tell you,” said Jesse, matter of fact.

Gabriel glanced at him. He was getting fairly good at reading Jesse’s face, but just then McCree had closed himself off. Gabriel wasn’t entirely sure why that stung more than the debacle he’d left behind in Social Grounds.

“Mm. Can it wait until we’re home?”

“Yeah,” said Jesse quietly. “Why don’t you let me call a Lyft?”

“I guess it beats the bus.”

Gabriel stopped. They were some thirty feet shy of the bus stop. The street they were on had fairy lights strung around palm trunks, giving the place a pale silver glow mixed with the orange sodium lamps. It was a nice street. Should have been romantic.

Jesse typed something on his phone before he shoved it in his pocket. The silence felt awkward as they both stood there in the quiet, but Gabriel wasn’t sure what to say. Not when his head was that full.

“So… did it end bad?”

“You could say that,” said Gabriel, not really surprised Jesse had picked up on it. “It wasn’t turning me into a lampshade bad, but bad enough to rank on my stupid first dates list.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Gabriel snorted. “I mean. Kind of, but also… I dunno. Because right now… I’m confused. And disappointed. And I don’t know what to make of myself.”

Jesse pulled his phone out again, and Gabriel watched as Jesse cancelled the Lyft. “There’s a liquor store over here, and a park nearby. C’mon.”

Curiosity tugged at him. Gabriel was tired, but not tired enough to deny one of Jesse’s suggestions, and followed along behind him. Even though they could probably be arrested for drinking in public the idea was too appealing to pass up.

“Tell me we’re not going to Woodbine.”

“Nah, don’t feel like getting shot today,” said Jesse. 

The park they ended up at was a small neighbourhood playground, nestled among a residential area. The playground equipment was slightly vandalized, but there was a community garden struggling to grow in the corner and the locals seemed to keep it clean. A few teenagers were playing basketball despite the poor light, and Gabriel and Jesse sat down together to watch them.

For the first time since Jesse had caught up with him they were touching. Jesse’s shoulder was a comfortable warmth against his own. They shared a mickey of bourbon wrapped in its paper bag, fingers touching as they passed the bottle back and forth.

Jesse got comfortable next to him, looking up at the sky. “Okay, so… what happened?”

Gabriel had a feeling Jesse already knew. No doubt the second he’d sent the name of the man he was meeting, Jesse had looked him up.

_ Maybe he’d even come to get me out of that, _ he thought. The thought didn’t bother him as much as he expected.

“It was going okay,” said Gabriel quietly. “He wasn’t a bad guy. Maybe not my type, but just… Someone. We were passing the time. When the cafe was about to close he suggested going to a bar and getting a drink. I could tell he was into me and where he wanted the night to go.”

Jesse didn’t reply, which made Gabriel wonder what was going on in his head.

“He gestured a lot. Really animated talker. Eventually I got a look at his hands. His left hand. And that tiny discolouration on his ring finger…” Gabriel chewed his lip before he laughed bitterly. “I got this awful feeling. Everything went loud and I went to the bathroom and googled him in a fit of paranoia.” He paused before the words started to come out angrier. “I noticed a tiny flaw on his ring finger, a maybe tan-line, and I just froze. And he is married, too. I guess because I said I don’t have Facebook he figured I’d never look him up. That he was safe. That he could just  _ use _ me like that. So I went back out and got pissed at him, he got pissed at me and called me plenty of names for finding him out, and I had to beat it before I punched his perfect fucking teeth out.”

The anger was still hot, but starting to roll out. Gabriel let out a slow breath. “And now I can’t help but wonder, Jess… is this what it’s like in your head? Seeing these things so easily? Picking up on every little detail and piecing it together? I mean, it took me like an hour and a half to pick up on it, but you would have seen it the second you looked at him. And I’m  _ angry _ it took me so long, and I - I don’t even know what I feel. I don’t know how to work this through in my head. What is this like for you?”

Jesse closed his eyes and blew out a breath. “I’m sorry, Gabe.”

“Yeah. Me too. So, what did you find out?”

“Nothing that can’t wait a little longer,” said Jesse.

“You don’t need to go back to Lynx’s?”

“Nah.”

“Good.”

They sat in silence, the flask depleted now. When Jesse had started to shift away Gabriel had refused to let him and pushed back against his side. Whatever was going on in the detective’s head, he wasn’t about to let Jesse run off and leave him hanging.

Eventually the teenagers left the park and they were alone in the white noise of the quiet neighbourhood. A dog barked somewhere, muffled sounds of music drifted from a nearby home, insects made themselves known in the bushes and grass.

It was peaceful.

Before Gabriel suggested they get a move on, however, Jesse spoke up.

“It’s lonely.”

The word settled over Gabriel uncomfortably and he reached an arm around the other man to give him a squeeze. “What is?”

“Seeing what I see. It’s lonely. When you just  _ know _ things… things that people don’t want you to know, even if it’s etched on their faces… it’s lonely.”

Gabriel settled more firmly onto the bench. Heading home could wait just a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, for reading :)


	4. What's A Little B&E Between Friends?

Some days consciousness came on kindly, bred from a decent sleep. Sometimes it came on suddenly, like a hard shove from a flashback dream. Other times it was more like a steel wedge worked between his temples with a sledgehammer.

_ Oh my god, _ thought Gabriel, his mouth opening but nothing more than a dry grunt managing to work its way out of his throat. It was the first time in a month that he’d nodded himself off to bed with opiates and alcohol, but it was the first time that he’d gone so hard on the latter that he couldn’t tell if he was hungover or trapped in a coma.  _ I might be dead. _

Finally, with a lot of reluctance, his eyes opened. 

His ceiling came into focus. A spiderweb had begun to weave between the wall and a beam. He couldn’t see the mistress of the web, but he stared at it for a long moment before he determined he was still probably drunk. 

Gabriel closed his eyes again, trying to work out the different facets of pain in his body. His knee was normal. His head, less so. Sore limbs. There was medication for that in the kitchen. 

“Mmm.”

Almost a word. Potentially a word.

Finally he pushed himself up and swung his good leg out of the bed. The other followed more stiffly. He couldn’t see his cane anywhere.

The door opened and Gabriel looked at Jesse, who walked in looking too bright eyed and awake to be allowed. He was dressed in a t-shirt and sweats, so at least that meant he’d probably slept an hour. What was most important was that he was carrying a mug. One of Gabriel’s Talavera mugs that he’d inherited. He held his hands out like a kid, making a gimme motion.

The ceramic was warm, but not scalding to the touch. Gabriel tipped back the contents of the cup without thinking.

His eyes opened and the motion froze, which was unfortunate because a lot of that was still in his  _ mouth _ . Brain cranking a little faster he swallowed and pulled the cup away from his face before turning accusing eyes on Jesse.

“Morning, pumpkin.”

He worked his tongue around in his mouth and parted his lips. The air just made him taste it more completely, which didn’t help. “What,” said Gabriel, the words coming out in a froggy croak, “the fuck.”

“It’s a hangover cure,” said Jesse matter-of-fact, as though that should have been Gabriel’s first guess.

He put the cup on his knee, eyes shut. He didn’t know if the ‘tea’ was rejuvenating or not, but he could safely say the taste had cleared his brain.

“I’m really not cut out for anything other than black tea I think,” he finally said. 

“Pu’er can taste kind of moldy when it isn’t good, yeah,” said Jesse. “But none of the nice shops were open yet so I did what I could.”

Gabriel licked his lips again. “Why’s it so bitter?”

“Ginseng. That I did have on hand.”

“Uh huh.”

He stood, taking a bit of a stumble-step, but Jesse was there to catch his arm. He looked into the other man’s eyes and felt something soften in him. Last night, the debacle with the closeted married man, the moments in the park…

He gave Jesse a weak smile. “Where’d I leave my cane?”

“Living room,” said Jesse. “Sorry, shoulda grabbed it.”

“Mm. I’m supposed to walk without it now and again.”

He didn’t let go of Jesse’s arm for the first few steps. He was warm and solid and Gabriel was just tired enough that if Jesse had just tugged him to the bed he’d have crawled in next to him and let himself drift straight back to dreamland.

Of course, that required unpacking everything going through his head, and Gabriel wasn’t ready for  _ that _ either.

A shower proved about the limit of Gabriel’s abilities of self care. For the first time in awhile he didn’t bother with shaving the shadow that was growing around his goatee and instead made a beeline for his chair. The Cat was quick to follow, curling up on Gabriel’s lap with loving purrs. 

The cold water had at least cleared his thoughts and he’d drank plenty of water from the showerhead, completely uncaring about the source. He remembered Jesse pulling out a bottle of bourbon from a craft distillery in Tallahassee that had gone down smoother than anything Gabriel could remember drinking before. He remembered lying on the floor next to Jesse as the cowboy asked him riddles.

He remembered wanting to do more than just touch his hand whenever they shared the bottle.

Gabriel blew out a breath. “So. Did Lynx send anything over?”

“Yep. All kinds of things, to be honest. I’ll throw the pot on. I called for breakfast, so DoorDash should be providing a hangover cure of bacon and eggs and pancakes any time now.”

Generally Gabriel didn’t approve of getting takeout of anything he could make better himself, and certainly not eggs that would be cold and rubbery by the time they got there, but he couldn’t complain when it meant there was no cooking involved. 

“So,” said Jesse, after they were both situated at the breakfast table with enough food to feed a hungry regiment, “Bartalotti is a money launderer.”

“There’s a big surprise,” said Gabriel, pouring syrup on his pancakes. “The party business not all it’s cracked up to be?”

“Oh it is,” said Jesse. “Some of those sales aren’t inaccurate, and people pay a  _ lot _ to have him and people like him run gala’s and after-events. But it’s not so lucrative that he can pull in that many figures a month.”

He turned the screen of his tablet towards Gabriel, who grunted as he read the data. “I could burn more than half of that and still not live any less comfortably for my entire life.”

“Exactly,” said Jesse. “So, Bartalotti Entertainment is a money laundering scheme. His nightclub will probably be that too. He gets to pretend he’s some high flying celebrity and he funnels cash through it for someone. Not sure who that is yet, because Lynx has hit some very considerable dead ends.”

“Dead ends how?”

“Computer systems at the ends of money trails. They said they’ve never really seen much like it. Which isn’t discouraging for them, they’re over the moon, but they also know that that’s a task for later.”

“Do the dead ends stop anywhere in particular?”

“Montenegro, Havana, Dorado, and Rome, so far,” said Jesse. 

The word Dorado made Gabriel wonder. His  _ abuelos _ were from there. He wondered if it had ties to Los Muertos, the gang that had started becoming more aggressive as of late. “Okay, so a bit bigger than petty blackmail at the moment.”

“Yep,” said Jesse. “But, on that front, I am certain it’s Bartalotti himself. So, when you’re trying to hide things on your computer, one of the cleverest ways is to conceal a file or video within a jpeg. Anyone who isn’t particularly tech savvy won’t notice it, but if you’re looking for it you can see the size of the picture is completely out of proportion with what you have.”

Gabriel nodded. “So you found secret files?”

“Two,” said Jesse. “Not Hana’s, or her girlfriends, but they did belong to someone who is very influential in Hollywood right now. But just the fact that he has those is enough to warrant a break-in.”

Sipping his coffee thoughtfully, he reflected on places he never thought his life would go. Becoming a burglar had been one of them, but he’d crossed that line the second week he’d been living with Jesse, and he was becoming very adept at using lockpicks. “Any idea who the failsafe is?”

“I had hoped it was Mauga, and it could still be him as well,” said Jesse, picking up a piece of bacon, “but I’m pretty sure it’s the guy we didn’t meet. Marco Vialli. Like Antonio, he’s from Venice. Old school friends.”

Once again he turned the tablet around, this time to show Gabriel a picture. He was handsome enough, and well groomed, though he had a weak chin and there was something Gabriel didn’t like about his eyes.

“We breaking into his place too?” 

“Only after we’ve confirmed it. Antonio has a beautiful place in Beverly Hills, and Lynx figures his security will be easy to bypass, thanks to Sonya. Vialli unfortunately has a penthouse in a highrise that will be a little more janky. So, easy first.”

“Easy first.”

***

They relayed the plans both to Hana and Lynx, though admittedly Hana’s was a heavily edited version to keep her from knowing anything overly incriminating on the off chance something went sideways and the police got involved. Hana was sad that once again she’d have to sit out, but Jesse admitted to Gabriel in an aside he didn’t want to chance her emotions getting the better of her. “It’s not that I don’t trust her. It’s that if it were me being blackmailed by that piece of shit, I’d do anything I could to feel even an iota of power over him.”

After instructing her to try to have a good night with the knowledge she’d be free in just a few more days, Jack and Gabriel set up their own plans. He knew better than to ask where Jesse had gotten his hands on a panel van from Bartalotti’s preferred cable company, but he had to admit the idea was fairly genius. They would cut the cable and one of Jesse’s colleagues, as of yet unknown to Bartalotti, would go in to ‘fix’ it and plant the White Rabbit in Antonio’s house AI. That done, they would wait until nightfall, disable the security when Antonio left, and help themselves to a quick look around for hard copies of any of the blackmail materials as well as let themselves into Antonio’s computer with the White Rabbit if it wasn’t connected to Sonya.

As Jesse took up surveillance, it was Gabriel’s job to impersonate a cable guy. Dressed in a pair of old Comcast overalls, he limped his way over to the neighborhood hub later that morning with a toolbox in hand, adopting an air of importance. No one gave him a second look as he picked the lock on the cable box and opened it.

Inside of the box nothing made much sense to him, but Lynx was in his ear walking him through it as he pulled on a pair of heavy gloves and looked for Bartalotti’s house code among the fiber optic cables. It seemed a little too easy, but within a minute he’d disconnected Bartalotti’s internet. Now they just had to wait for his angry phone call to Comcast.

_ “I’ve got a guy monitoring calls. Once Bartalotti’s complaint is registered your girl can do her thing, Jesse,” _ said Lynx.

Jesse’s girl turned out to be a girl named Fio Bianchi, a woman who typically worked as a driver for people who needed things delivered without the police getting involved. People, drugs, money, and anything else, Fio was a dedicated delivery girl who had access to plenty of vehicles and every kind of licence under the sun. Ever since Jesse had helped her out a few times she also enjoyed the opportunity to flex her other favourite pastime, which was small-time cons. 

She was waiting in the van when Gabriel returned and gave him a big wink. She was pretty, with big expressive brown eyes and auburn hair. When they’d first met her makeup had been heavy, especially around her eyes, but just then it was completely washed away. “A working girl look,” she had informed him.

“Not so hard, huh?” she asked.

Gabriel shrugged and eased himself onto a five gallon pail he’d overturned. “I imagine he’s already screaming and demanding to know why the service dropped.”

“And pissed that he’s on hold with Comcast wondering why money can’t jump him to the front of the queue,” she chuckled. “Donut?”

Gabriel waved his hand in a ‘no thanks’ gesture. Breakfast was still heavy in his gut, though the headache had receded and he was feeling more or less human. Fio shrugged and continued to demolish the box of Krispy Kreme she’d brought along. Gabriel guessed the calorie count well into the tens of thousands, but she was slender.

Jesse arrived from his vantage point twenty minutes later. “Antonio’s mad,” he chuckled, climbing into the car. “Lynx says his contact at Comcast reported a very angry phone call. The service tech is supposed to be there tomorrow afternoon. He’s already deleted the appointment.”

“That’s my time to fly then,” said Fio brightly, wiping her fingers with a wet nap. “Away we go. I don’t recommend riding along, though. You never know if he’ll search the back.”

“Just let me set his appointment,” said Jesse, opening the side panel and hopping out.

They’d borrowed  Torbjörn’s Odyssey again, deciding it would pass well enough for a nanny’s ride, even in Beverly Hills. They drove far enough away that they wouldn’t be picked up by any of Antonio’s friends. 

It was Jesse that made the call of honour from a burner phone. This time his accent was Bostonian and overly helpful. “Hello Mr. Bartalotti! We noticed we had you pencilled in for tomorrow afternoon. One of our technicians is actually quite nearby and is finishing up a call early.” He paused, and Gabriel could hear the growling over the phone at once. “Yes, we have gotten notifications of a few outages. Do you mind if I send her over? She’ll have a quick look at your modem to troubleshoot. Yes. Alright, Mr. Bartalotti, we’re sorry for the inconvenience.”

He hung up a moment later and smiled. “He’s so angry.”

“You do know if things go sideways that guy and Mauga are going to be pretty devastating in a fight, right?” said Gabriel, getting comfortable. 

“Yeah, I know. But here’s hoping we take care of everything without him having any idea we were involved in his demise.”

***

It was a good thing that Gabriel was used to stake outs, though this was decidedly different than any dug out he’d made so he could look down the scope of a gun and wait for the time to strike. Instead they drank McDonalds coffee, which Jesse had plenty of disparaging things to say about, and ate hamburgers. Like the night before, when Gabriel wasn’t distracted by reading, Jesse asked him riddles and quizzed him on scenarios.

_ The company is decidedly better than any I ever had in Iraq, _ thought Gabriel as the world passed them by.

Apparently it was Bartalotti’s day off, which meant a long drag sitting in the Odyssey with it’s smorgashboard of scents for the entire day listening to phone calls that were devoid of useful information.

Lynx was itching to have a go at some of the things they’d found on the Bartalotti Entertainment database, but Jesse was insisting on focus, which meant they had a long day of Lynx relaying feed from the Sonya house AI, listening into Antonio’s day, which mostly comprised of bitching that the cable had ever gone out at all. Fortunately Lynx’s increasingly sarcastic remarks as the day progressed turned it from monotonous to hilarious.

Fio had performed her task admirably. While dealing with Antonio’s advances she’d made jokes as she ‘fixed’ the cable and uploaded the White Rabbit into Sonya, and even agreed to a date with Antonio that Gabriel doubted he’d ever get.

“So how are you paying for everyone?” he asked, as the light began to fall and twilight set into the quiet neighborhood. On the microphones Antonio was quiet enough, watching a soccer game, and only spoke when he was angry about a goal or referee call. Lynx had already confirmed he was talking to himself, and that there was no security guard or dog to worry about.

Jesse smiled. “Well, Hana’s paying me,” he said. “Fio likes to work for me because I let her con people. Lynx is the one who’s expensive, but they’re worth every penny. Besides, they already told me presenting them with an enormous challenge once we’re done humiliating Bartalotti is a good partial payment.”

“You mean the money trails?” asked Gabriel, balling up another hamburger wrapper. “Montenegro and all that?”

“Yep. I won’t pretend to know what they’re excited about, but Lynx rather enjoys getting into places they shouldn’t be.”

“What do they do for a living?”

“They’re a tenured professor at a small-time community college. They teach math and basic computer sciences, and it suits them well. And because their courseload isn’t bad it gives them plenty of opportunity to either white hat their way through the internet, or do work for Anonymous.”

“I thought Anonymous was just made up,” said Gabriel. “Y’know, boogeymen in Guy Fawkes masks meant to scare people into voting republican, that sort of thing.”

“Not so far as I’m aware.” Jesse cracked the window and pulled a cigarette from the pack in his front pocket. “Lynx is also big on criminals getting what they deserve, so. This is just fun for them.”

Antonio screamed his approval at something that happened in his soccer game. Chances were he’d be home all night, which was a depressing thought. Gabriel wanted this over with.

“Someone ought to just kill him,” said Gabriel finally, reaching for a cigarette from Jesse’s pocket. 

“Think so?”

“He’s a vampire,” he said, putting the cigarette in his mouth. “He’s just as bad as any murderer out there. Maybe he doesn’t pull a trigger on anyone, but how much do you want to bet he’s pushed until someone’s killed themselves?”

Jesse lit Gabriel’s cigarette for him. The little flame illuminated his face a moment. The scent of tobacco filled the car, and Gabriel wondered if Mrs. Lindholm was going to give them hell for it. “I don’t disagree,” said Jesse after a minute, looking out the window in the direction of Bartalotti’s place. “But we can’t kill him. Not until we know the failsafe is out of the picture too.”

Jesse wasn’t wrong about that. 

“Well, maybe I’ll get my chance another day,” he said, his tone sarcastic but hopeful. Gabriel slouched as he smoked, thinking about that. At the very least, Bartalotti couldn’t die until their client was safe.

He checked his phone. A check in question from Jack about the man from last night, another from Mariana asking him to confirm for Sunday, and if Jesse would be coming as well. Regular, simple, real life things.

“So, you feeling better?” asked Jesse. “You were pretty upset last night.”

“Mm. I was mostly pissed at that asshole cheating on his wife,” he said. “I deleted Grindr. And Tinder. I know everyone wants me to get out into the world and shit, and date and make friends, but honestly? How much more  _ real world _ can I get than right here with you in this shitty van?”

Jesse smiled at that. Gabriel glanced at him, his cheeks feeling hot, then busied himself with the book he’d been reading. He was nearly done the Morricone book Jesse had recommended him. It was good, and he was confused as to why he’d never picked up one of them before. 

“I’ve never been good at friends anyway,” he continued, tapping ash out the window. “You, Fareeha… hell, even Jack, when he’s behaving himself, are all that I need.”

Beyond the sounds from the feed they were receiving from Lynx, the van went quiet. The sun was setting fast, and the lights on the street were beginning to come on.

“Gabe,” said Jesse, “I-”

A phone rang on the other end with Antonio, effectively cutting off whatever Jesse was about to angle at. Both of them focused on the receiver, waiting, ears strained. The game was muted and Antonio answered with a much more polite hello than they were used to hearing.

“Yes? No, you were interrupting nothing of importance. Ah, have they now?” There was a lengthy pause as he listened to the other end. “You heard wrong. My efforts here are merely an extension of their hand. My business is for the profits of - I see. Well, please inform her I’ll be happy to explain myself, and my system is as always, at her mercy.”

There was another pause. Jesse and Gabriel glanced at each other, each of them with unasked questions behind their eyes.

“No, I do not have anything pressing at the moment. I can do this for her immediately. Good-bye.” Antonio sighed. “Creepy bitch.”

***

Once Antonio had departed Lynx had been happy to open the gate and let them in. Gabe supposed the monotony of listening to  _ that  _ all day made anything a welcome break. Jesse had brought a tool kit with him, and Gabriel had his 9 mm Beretta tucked into the small of his back in case of any surprises. If Antonio returned early with Mauga a gun would even that playing field.

The house itself was a mediteranean style, putting Gabriel in mind of some Spanish and Italian architecture. Roses were climbing over one wall, meticulously tended to, and a fountain bubbled away somewhere. There was stick nor stone out of place, with mood lighting following both sidewalk, driveway, and lighting underneath of the different trees, whether they were cedars or palms. He imagined the most use the wide yard received was only ever seen with multiple witnesses around to catalogue and bolster Antonio’s status.

_ Slime, _ thought Gabriel.

The house wasn’t completely dark, with dim lighting casting shapes past the tinted windows, but Lynx confirmed that there was nothing alive in the house beyond some tropical fish in the lounge. Fortunately the long driveway, privacy fences, cedars and hedges, hid them from anyone who might be walking by with their dog, or even a neighbour looking out of their second floors.

“Go for a skinny dip?” Jesse joked as Lynx unlocked the patio doors. The pool was long and as still as a mirror, lit from below with LED’s. Gabriel was sure it would be warm enough. Antonio seemed like a heated pool kind of guy.

“Maybe when we’re done,” said Gabriel, which made Jesse bark with a laugh. 

_ “As Fio discovered for us, there’s a hub in the center of the house where the breaker box and the security systems are located. He has a laptop in his office along with a desktop computer which he uses to connect to the cloud on his business. He also has two safes, one in the bedroom and one in the office. The one in the office is obvious, his bedroom less so. He went there after his mysterious phone call.” _

“We haven’t had safe cracking lessons yet,” said Gabriel.

“I’ll do that,” said Jesse. “Bedroom first. You take this. Hit his laptop.”

Gabriel took the USB and followed Lynx’s directions to the study. Inside the house was just as carefully calculated and styled. Looking around it Gabriel couldn’t tell if it was a show home or lived in. The only sign of life was the varying levels of liquid in the decanters at one of the bars, and a single bottle of beer in the sink. Gabriel was willing to bet even the fruit in the baskets was never touched, and that Antonio generally went out to eat. 

Antonio’s office could fit all of 221B inside of it. He had a wall of books that Gabriel was willing to bet were never read, and plenty of modern art someone else probably chose for the place. He also had to wonder if Antonio had a television in  _ every _ room, as he made his way around the desk.

He opened the laptop and switched it on. Without entering the password, Gabriel slipped the White Rabbit into the usb and sat down in the leather computer chair, relaxing while it worked. He pulled on black nitrile gloves as he began to investigate the desk. A number and address book was catalogued on his phone, along with a ledger and day planner. 

Lynx unlocked the laptop next to him. The desktop background was a picture of Bartalotti with John Travolta and Tom Cruise. With an eye roll, and wondering if Antonio had ever dipped his toes into Scientology, he pulled himself closer to the laptop. 

“See anything in there?”

_ “I’ve got my program running. Take a look in his pictures. He’s not even subtle about it.” _

Gabriel opened the folder in question. For the most part it’s business shots and personal ones, but when he opened one file -  _ Testimonials -  _ red hot anger bloomed in his chest. Inside of it was a bank of files, each one named to a celebrity. He zeroed in quickly on Hana’s and opened it, not because he wanted to see her compromised but because he needed to know if it was the blackmail material. Gabriel was completely unsurprised to click on one of the video files to see her kissing a pretty Asian woman, and quickly closed it.

_ “Found it?” _ asked Jesse. Through the wall Gabriel could hear the sound of a drill.

“There’s a lot of people in here,” said Gabriel. Several A-Listers, plenty of B-Listers, even some directors or producers he recognized. And for each of those, there were four more unnamed people who Gabriel didn’t recognize.

_ “Yeah. He has spreadsheets. Payment histories, schedules. Alarms to remind him of who is next,”  _ said Lynx. _ “I’m running the termination program now.” _

The sound of the drill ended.  _ “Good. I think I’m through the wall of the safe now. Just need a minute to disable the alarm and I'll be in.” _

Gabriel squeezed his left hand into a fist, feeling the urge to hit something even as the files begin to disappear as Lynx did their work. He wanted to break things. “This guy deserves to die. He’s ruining so many lives because it’s what? Fun? He gets off on it?”

_ “Easy, Mr. Murder. He’ll be ruined before long. I have more than enough to release to the police on him once his victims are safe.” _

He nodded, still wanting to just wait there in the office to shoot Bartalotti and have it over with. 

“Once you’ve deleted it, there’s no way to get it back?”

_ “Yes, I have a program that - oh! Shit!” _

Lynx’s voice grew sharp and panicked. It wasn’t an ‘aha,’ it was a warning, and Gabriel was out of the chair in moments. 

_ “He’s returned, he’s here. I don’t know if he forgot something or not, but you need to get out of there, now.” _

Gabriel glanced at the door, wondering how far into cracking the safe Jesse was. He pulled the White Rabbit and shut the laptop, which continued to blink blue underneath of the closed lid, and began to head towards the door.

_ “Jesse! Jesse! SHIT!” _

_ “I’m alright,” _ Jesse’s voice was a whisper.  _ “If he don’t come in here I’ll be just fine.” _

Gabriel paused as lights flashed on in the hallway beyond. Footsteps were approaching, heavy and thudding.  _ Please don’t be Mauga, _ he thought.

_ “Gabe! Get in the closet!” _

Gabriel drew his gun. “But Jesse-”

_ “He’s safe! Move!” _

Galvanized, Gabriel picked up his cane and made his way as quietly as he could to the closet. He closed it just as the door opened and the study light flooded on. Heavy footsteps and expensive shoes clicked on the hardwood floor as Antonio’s rumbling complaints grew louder. Light lined over Gabriel’s body through the louvered door, and he ducked his head enough to watch what was happening.

Antonio went to his desk and sat down in his chair. “So… we are alone. What is the business proposition you have which could have been concluded elsewhere? Or is that why you are here? So that that no one will overhear?”

Gabriel leaned forward, trying to get a look at who might be with him, who might be wanting to be dealing with him, when the boom of a gunshot sounded. Antonio’s body heaved, red blossoming on the front of his pale grey suit.

Antonio made a sound, but it wasn’t a scream. He wheezed as air bubbled through the new hole in his lung, making red foam. He looked from the wound and up to whomever it was beyond, shock colouring his features as blood dripped from his lips. A second shot ended the surprised expression on his face, a single hole forming between his eyes, blood, bone, and grey matter staining the high backed office chair. Antonio left the world without another sound, his head falling impossibly low on his chest, form sagging.

Over the com, Lynx was hyperventilating.

A final shot rang out, a steady one straight into the laptop, which exploded into fragmented plastic and circuitry.

Ears ringing, Gabriel didn’t hear their withdrawing footsteps, no matter how hard he strained to hear. Jaw set, he thumbed off the safety to his gun and pushed the closet door open, moving slowly into sight of the door.

No one was there. Hand shaking, Gabriel lowered the gun and turned to look at Antonio. Dead, like he deserved, but…  _ why? _

Heavy boots in the hall had him turning, raising his gun in defence, but Jesse was there a moment later, his face white with his concern and fear. His eyes swept from the body to the gun in Gabriel’s hand, then to his face. Fury came next, rolling over Jesse’s features until Gabriel couldn’t recognize the man in front of him. 

_ “What did you do, Reyes?”  _ Jesse advanced, his eyes dark. “You know, this was exactly why I didn’t want to bring Hana! Everyone I’ve ever met is so quick to fire a goddamn gun! What were you thinking?”

“It wasn’t me!” he barked back, finding his voice through the shock and insulted that Jesse would assume that, gun in his hand or not. “Someone was with him.”

“Yeah? Who?” he demanded. 

“I didn’t get a look at them. I was  _ hiding _ so I wasn’t victim number  _ two.” _

“Lynx?” said Jesse, a snarl to his words. When there was no immediate reply he growled in his throat.  _ “LYNX!” _

Lynx’s voice finally breathed out over the speakers, trembling and anxious.  _ “I - he… there was someone else there. A woman.” _

Jesse pinched the bridge of his nose, a definite tremble to his hand. He was taking deep gulps of air between muttered words that Gabriel couldn’t catch.

_ “You two don’t have time for a lovers quarrel just now,”  _ said Lynx, their voice a little firmer. _ “Someone probably heard that shot, and that means police. Average response time is within five minutes. I’m turning on my scanner now, but I might be too far to get that frequency.” _

Jesse nodded. He adjusted the strap of the bag over his shoulder, the contents bulging a bit. Whatever he’d taken from the safe in Antonio’s room, there seemed to be a lot of it.

“Alright. Alright, let’s move.” He looked at Gabriel, eyes more calm than they’d been only seconds before, but still almost hectically bright. “I’m sorry. I just - I’ll explain later, alright?”

“Alright,” said Gabriel, tucking the gun into his pants again. There was no time to argue or point blame. 

“Good riddance to this asshole anyway,” said Jesse, leading the way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, for your comments!


	5. Enigmatic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for implied drug use.

There were no sirens in the distance, no eyes looking through fences or peering down lanes as they let themselves out of Antonio’s home. Gabriel’s knee was aching as he held his cane in his hand, unwilling to chance leaving those tell-tale marks as they made their way back to the Odyssey several blocks over. That, too, was quiet and unobtrusive. Nothing stirred in the night beyond a few insects and a roaming local cat that watched them from across the road.

Neither of them had said another word. Lynx had informed them they had work to do, cleaning his presence out of Antonio’s home and business, and disappeared from the head sets, leaving Jesse and Gabriel alone.

Jesse stopped by the drivers side of the van. He was a little out of breath, his eyes getting that feverish brightness to them that they sometimes had during a case, when the world would open up to him. His expression was starting to close off, though, the way he did when he was acting, or when they were working with a new police officer or detective. Gabriel stopped a few feet shy of him, watching and worried.

“Jess-”

Jesse shook his head and pressed his palm against his temple. “I’m sorry. But I can’t…” His eyes were squeezed shut, but Gabriel wasn’t sure if he was blocking out the world or even just the reflection of himself in the car window. “I can’t do this yet. The failsafe is going to be tripped, Antonio’s dead and we don’t know what else might be hiding.  _ Fuck.” _

“Well, no one called the cops, so the failsafe doesn’t know yet,” he said, taking a step closer. “And if we can find some way to keep this quiet, and head it off with Jack?”

“Right, keep the media off of the death of a popularity leech,” said Jesse with a bitter laugh. He didn’t seem like he was really  _ seeing _ anything. He looked like-

_ Looks like me. You’ve seen that look in the mirror. This is about more than just the failsafe. _

“Come back from there,” he said, taking a step closer. “I don’t know what you’re seeing, but come back from there. You don’t need-”

Jesse just sagged a little. He dropped the duffel bag and took a step back from the van, shaking his head. “You don’t get it.”

“Yeah, and I won’t until you tell me. But-”

“I gotta go,” he said, turning to look at Gabriel. “I’ll… I gotta go.”

“Jesse!” 

“I’m sorry, Gabe, I gotta. I can’t do this. I’m thinking too much. It’s too fast. I’m sorry.” Jesse pulled the keys from his pocket and tossed them on the duffel bag before he turned, heading down the street without a look back.

Gabriel thought about going after him and yelling but after a moment sighed and picked up the keys. Even if there were no cops coming, since it seemed like Antonio had fairly decently soundproofed windows, Gabriel already knew being a latino guy with a duffel bag full of stolen shit and a gun in an affluent neighborhood was going to get him nothing but trouble.

“Asshole,” he said, picking up the bag to throw in the back. When he looked at the street to see how far Jesse had gone, or if he’d changed his mind, the area was deserted. “I am going to  _ kill him.” _

Fortunately no one pulled him over, which was good. Beyond name-dropping Jack, Gabriel couldn’t think of a single good story of why he had that van to keep the cops from asking too many questions. Luck was with him and he didn’t run into a patrol on the way back, even though he was sweating the entire time, and worried about every single lane change and turn. He used his signal light religiously, and breathed a sigh of relief when he was finally back in Baker St. 

He parked in Torbjörn’s stall and made sure to pack away all evidence of that day’s activities, from the speaker on the front dash Lynx had provided, to the mysterious parcels within the bag. 

Luckily it was Mrs. Lindholm who answered the door when he went to hand back the keys. He didn’t fancy having a go with Torbjörn over borrowing the car as late as he had. “Oh, dear. I thought you were home. I suppose it’s just Jesse up there then?” she asked as she took them, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

_ There is no physical way Jesse made it home first, _ he thought. “Oh?”

“He’s got his boots on in the house again. Tell him to take them off?” she asked.

“Will do, Mrs. Lindholm.”

She gave him a smile and closed the door. In the hall, turning to look up at the set of stairs that lead to 221B, Gabriel pulled his 9mm from the small of his back, tucked his cane into a fold in the duffel, and began to climb.

He heard voices as he stood outside the door, though they were just muffled enough that he couldn’t quite make it out. They sounded feminine. He could also smell coffee, freshly brewed, and a perfume he didn’t recognize. 

Jaw tightening, he reached for the door. Just beyond he heard the click of heels against the hardwood and it opened.

Gabriel gaped at the woman there. She was East Indian and perhaps Jesse’s age, but it was hard to tell because of how reproachable she looked. Her hair was silky black, brushed and plaited carefully, not a hair out of place, and she wore a navy blue suit with golden accents. 

She sniffed to see him, obviously disapproving as she looked him up and down. Clearly something about him bothered her. When she tapped at the door knob he heard the click of plastic or metal. 

“Um,” he said, “who the fuck are you?”

“Ugh, so vulgar,” she replied before turning and heading into the apartment. Her kitten heels clicked as she walked. “It’s his roommate. Gabriel Santino Reyes.”

“And who the hell else is here?” he demanded, walking over the threshold to throw down the bag and take a look. He didn’t tuck his gun away, though he pointed it at the ground. 

On the couch, sitting primly, was another East Indian woman. Instead of a suit she wore a light blue sari, the colour of a pale sky, which matched her eyes. She was beautiful, like the woman who’d answered the door, but softer. She didn’t look at him with displeasure. Instead, she looked interested in him, and rested her chin on her fist as she observed Gabriel. Something about the way she looked at Gabriel reminded him of Jesse. She wasn’t just noticing him. She was  _ seeing. _

“You know,” she said, her voice accented and warm, “I  _ have _ been very curious indeed to see who could live with Jesse McCree for longer than a day or two. Where is he?”

“Couldn’t tell you,” he said, deciding neither were a direct threat, and he tucked his gun away. The action made her smile. “So, who are you? Why’d you break in?”

“Apologies. How rude of us, not to introduce ourselves. The woman with me is named Satya Vaswani. She is both my personal assistant and closest confident and friend. My name is Himani Basu, but you may also call me Echo. Many do.”

“Ah. I see.”

“He’s mentioned me?” she sounded surprised, but brightened at the prospect.

“Not at all.” He went to sit down, stretching out his leg on the foot rest. He observed her balefully, wondering if she was a client or someone to consider dangerous. There’d already been a few people who hated Jesse that tried to approach Gabriel. He certainly didn’t like the idea of whoever she was just letting herself into their house. The Cat With No Name, put off by the newcomers, immediately jumped into Gabriel’s lap seeking comfort.

“Well, that’s more what I was expecting,” she said, and leaned forward to the coffee table to pick up a cup and saucer. “He doesn’t know how to feel about me most of the time. Coffee?”

The offer of coffee like  _ he _ was the visitor only served to irritate him more. “Look, lady, I’ve had a long night that involved a lot of very fucked up things, and I’d really appreciate it if you told me what you were doing here, because Jesse isn’t likely to show up any time soon and I’m honestly tired.” 

Satya approached with a mug of coffee, apparently not put off whatsoever by Gabriel’s attitude. “I cleaned your coffee pot. It was disgusting,” she said. As he took the cup he noticed her left hand was a prosthetic, perhaps the most advanced he’d ever seen. “In fact, most of your kitchen left much to be desired. I have fixed it.”

“You’re really friendly, aren’t you?” he asked.

“To my friends,” she replied, heading back into the kitchen, presumably to look for more things that irritated her. 

“Don’t mind Satya. She actually approves of you. If she didn’t she wouldn’t say anything at all,” said Echo, drawing her feet back up underneath of her as she relaxed on the couch. “Now, I suppose this is a good opportunity if Jesse isn’t here. I  _ have _ been wondering about you. Jesse is very  _ dear _ to me. I need to ensure he’s safe with you.”

“So what is he to you, besides very dear? You’re obviously not family.”

“A friend, I suppose. A caretaker. You were a friend of Ana Amari’s?”

That caught Gabriel’s attention. “You knew Ana?”

“Yes, she and I were quite close.” Something in the way that she said it, a hesitation, made Gabriel wonder. It wasn’t quite a lie, however, so he didn’t press for information. “Jesse and I became acquainted because he robbed me. Namely, my company, Vishkar. While I no longer run it as CEO, I do still have a majority of the shares and sit on the board of directors. My pursuits are more political of late.”

“So he robbed your company and you decided to be friends with him?”

“He exposed a vulnerability in my vault, one which I had been assured was impossible to break into. It is a system which I use in multiple countries all over the world. While he had one victory with the one most easily available to him in Los Angeles, his success posed a threat to the other eighteen. When he was caught I not only provided my own lawyers to aid in his defence, I also hired him to help me fix the flaw.”

“That sounds absolutely ridiculous and not at all surprising,” said Gabriel. “So why are you here now?”

“Well, as I mentioned, Ana and I were close. She and I had an interest in Jesse’s success. We could both see he was a bright boy who did not deserve to either rot in jail or become a hunted man all his life. His morality wouldn’t last forever. She and I looked after him as best we could, when he allowed it. Since her passing, it’s just been me. He resists having me around, more often than not. He isn’t very given to following authority, and I believe I remind him too much of Ana. He loved her very much.”

The mention about authority made Gabriel laugh. He knew that much. Whenever Sojourn or Jack ever asked Jesse for anything directly the result was like a wish on a monkey’s paw. They’d get what they wanted… and then some.

“He ran off tonight,” said Gabriel, sobering a little. “He froze up over something tonight and ran.”

“Ah.”

The tone of her voice made Gabriel look up. Echo was looking at the ground, concerned. Her fingers were tight around her coffee mug. “Did he say anything exactly?”

“That he was thinking too fast,” said Gabriel. “And a bunch of other things. The job went sideways.”

Satya made a sound, though he couldn’t say if it was disapproval or worry. “I will check his bedroom.”

“Thank you,” said Echo. “Does Angela Ziegler still run her clinic?”

“Yeah, why?”

Echo seemed to weigh something in her mind before she leaned forward to set the coffee cup down. “What I tell you I only tell you because I feel it is for Jesse’s absolute safety. Obviously he hasn’t told you. No doubt he doesn’t want to trouble or burden you, or make you think he is weak.”

“Told me what?” Worry flashed through Gabriel’s system, the anxiety much higher than when his life had been in danger in Antonio’s study, watching a man die. It ought to have disturbed him that Jesse’s well being took such a higher priority than his own safety.

“Since he was younger Jesse commonly has used heroin to temper his mind when he feels overwhelmed. We have seen him through several courses of rehab, though in the last five years or so his use has very much slackened. What happened tonight?”

Gabriel wanted to protest the idea that Jesse could be a junkie of any kind. He wanted to defend his friend from the tarnishing brush of addiction. But just as there was no lie in her voice, he could believe it.

_ “When you just know things… things that people don’t want you to know, even if it’s etched on their faces… it’s lonely.” _

He could understand anyone needing an outlet to switch off that kind of overwhelming stimulation. Anything to numb the pain and block it out. He already knew he used too much over his own leg, tempering it with booze far too often. Gabriel was headed the right way for an opiate addiction with a side of alcoholism. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t been able to see that Jesse had been there all along.

_ And you let him run off. He needed you, and you didn’t run after him. _

Looking up into Echo’s eyes, his left hand bunched into a hard fist to stop it shaking, he explained the job and what had happened to the tiniest detail. He didn’t even spare speaking of Antonio’s death, sensing she would not go to the police about him or Jesse and their breaking and entering, or Lynx and their cyber crimes.

Satya returned while Echo sat in silence, contemplating what he’d said. “He has paraphernalia, but no heroin from what I can see. He’s going to be looking up his dealers.”

“Perhaps he went to Dr. Ziegler and asked for methadone,” said Echo quietly. “What happened isn’t your fault, Gabriel. It is unfortunate, but entirely possible seeing you in that way caused him to have a flashback. There was another he was very much in love with, only they  _ had _ pulled the trigger.”

She stood, brushing her skirt down, and regarded Gabriel with a worried expression.

“I think he cares about you. He won’t want you to see him like that, but he needs you. I’ll see if I can locate him. You stay here in case he receives a fix from someone else and comes home. I’ve left money in your wardrobe. You can donate it to charity if you like, but I do think a man of your means deserves payment for the good you are helping Jesse accomplish. We are sorry for worrying you, and taking up too much of your time.” She slipped her feet into soft looking shoes. Satya brought a coat over for her and helped her into it. “I’ll keep in touch.”

Satya merely nodded at him before leaving, and the two women left with a soft click of the door.

Coffee mug cooling in his hand, Gabriel watched the door for some time from his chair, not quite able to compel himself to move. The clock on the shelf ticked away the minutes, and the cat fell asleep on his lap.

_ Love. She’d said love. _

***

“Easy does it.”

The words made Gabriel’s eyes open despite the drowsiness that pressed in on him. The world beyond the front window was still dark, and the room was illuminated by a single desk lamp. The Cat was a warm weight on his lap, curled into a tight circle. At first Gabriel wasn’t sure if he had heard the words, or if he’d dreamed them. His head was aching, along with his knee. Tendrils of pain were radiating outward from it, making the muscles sore. He’d run too much on it.

A step in the stairwell made Gabriel sit up straighter, realizing he hadn’t misheard. The Cat looked up, ears cocked, before he jumped to the floor to investigate the door.

“Almost there.” The voice was unfamiliar. Accented. Asian, Gabriel would guess.

“Bless you,” said Jesse affectionately, which caused a squeeze in his chest. “You’re the best you know?”

“I do in fact know. Keys?”

“Shit. Gabe’s got ‘em. He’s the best too.”

With a wince as he eased his weight down on his leg, Gabriel limped to the door and opened it for them.

Jesse was leaning heavily on the other man. He looked calm enough, and affectionate. Once he saw Gabriel his eyes lit up and he smiled. Any of the anger or animosity of before was either gone or tucked away for later. Jesse looked carefree and happy. Gabriel could see the intoxication for what it was, though. Jesse’s brown eyes were bloodshot and his pupils constricted.

“Gabe,” he said, his voice gentle and warm. “Sorry for running off on you…”

Gabriel looked at the other man. He was slightly under average height but strongly built underneath his designer clothes, his hair a bright shade of green. He couldn’t make a guess of where he was from just by looking at him, however, just that he was Asian.

“You must be Gabriel,” he said with a tiny smile of his own. There was something dignified to the mans tone, formal. “Jesse has been talking my ear off about you as of late. Let’s get him to bed.”

Gabriel offered an arm for Jesse to take and the other man did, at once pressing his weight in. His nose was cold as he sought warmth against Gabriel’s neck, the huff of air making him tickle.

Jesse’s room was more haphazard than Gabriel’s, with projects and experiments laying out with tools, as well as books and binders stuffed full of print outs and information. Gabriel tended to avoid both of Jesse’s domains when he cleaned unless there was a concerning smell or a chance of a biohazard. 

He nudged aside what he assumed was an evidence box as they made their way to the double bed in the corner, where Gabriel eased the cowboy down. At once Jesse’s hand shot out to take Gabriel’s wrist, to prevent him from walking away. For a man still riding a high he was coordinated.

“That a gun in your pants, or are you just happy I’m home?” he asked.

“I’m afraid that’s a gun,” said Gabriel, with a small laugh. He pulled it out, though, and double checked the safety before setting it down on the floor. 

The asian man smiled at the two of them. “I’ll be going.”

“I didn’t get your name,” he said. “Jesse tends to only share things when they need to be.”

The man laughed quietly. “My name is Genji Watanabe. I hope we can meet under more pleasant circumstances in the future.”

Gabriel’s fingers laced with Jesse’s as the other man’s hands creeped around his waist. Jesse, it seemed, was a snuggler. Gabriel had known a few addicts in his life, and Jesse didn’t quite seem to tick any of the boxes, but he was likely still on the nod and would be crashing soon.

“Are you his sponsor?”

“I am,” said Genji. He put his hands into his hoodie pockets as he watched Jesse begin to sneak his hand underneath of Gabriel’s sweater to draw him in closer. “Four years clean, in fact.”

“Congratulations.” 

“Thank-you. Jesse called me earlier. I did try to talk him out of using, but I’m afraid I wasn’t successful this time. But I am a much different person than him, and I can understand why he thinks it is his only option.”

“Did he say anything?”

“Nothing beyond the usual,” said Genji. “And I can’t divulge anything regardless. There is a level of privacy we maintain.”

Gabriel nodded. “Alright. Well… thanks.”

Jesse began to pull Gabriel in, the tugs of his hands more insistent now. He was content to be ignored no longer, and it reminded Gabriel of the Cat. “Why do I smell Satya’s perfume?”

“Long story,” he said, squeezing Jesse’s hand.

Genji bowed, and without another word left the room, switching off the light as he went. Through the crack in the door he saw the living room light switch off, and he heard the front door close.

He’d never been in Jesse’s room in the dark before, and certainly not in the bed. Now that the latest stranger of the night had left, the Cat was rustling with something where Gabriel couldn’t see. But before he let Jesse draw him down onto his back he reached for Jesse’s boots. He wasn’t about to let him sleep fully clothed, and needed to focus on one thing at a time.

_ Take care of him.  _

He pulled Jesse’s jacket away and let that fall to the ground as well.

Jesse pulled on Gabriel again, harder, and this time he went, resting his head on the pillow and lying on his side, even though he didn’t like the weight on his right leg. Jesse’s sheets smelled very much of the other man, masculine and smokey. In the darkness he could see a bare glitter of light reflecting in Jesse’s eyes.

“You’re here,” said Jesse, reaching up to touch Gabriel’s face. 

“I’m here,” he said, covering Jesse’s hand with his own, squeezing gently. “How’s the head?”

_ “Quiet.” _ Jesse breathed the word out. “Echo was here?”

“She was, yeah.”

“Ah.”

He thought, after a few minutes of quiet, that Jesse had fallen asleep, and let himself relax into the warmth and softness of the sheets, but then Jesse spoke up again. His voice was a little more timid, just above a whisper.

“I know you ain’t them.”

“But sometimes the past decides it just wants to be remembered,” said Gabriel.

“Yeah.”

It wasn’t the right time. Not when Jesse wasn’t sober, not when they had things to unpack and get out of the way. But Gabriel knew what it was like to have ghosts flare up in front of you and remind you that, at least in the dark alleyways in your head, they were still very much alive. Sometimes it didn’t matter how much training you had, how much control, how much intelligence. Ghosts were ghosts, and didn’t care an iota for even the most carefully built walls.

He leaned in, a hand cupping Jesse’s jaw, and kissed him. Jesse held his breath, his body tensing slightly, before he returned the kiss with a sweet press of his lips. Jesse’s hand, normally so steady, trembled.

Gabriel pulled away and instead wrapped his arm around Jesse’s shoulders and drew him in, kissing his hair. He wanted more. He wanted  _ so much more. _ All the denial of the last few months, ignoring the growing attraction he felt for Jesse, was compounding. It demanded attention, demanded to be given an outlet.

_ Not yet. You’ve been celibate for over a year now, you can make another night. This is enough. _

“Gabe,” said Jesse, his voice croaking.

“It’s alright. You can sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smooooooch. A big thank-you again to everyone reading and especially to those leaving feedback!


	6. Penny For A Thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up! There's another photo in here that might not show up nicely on mobile. Apologies if it doesn't, but you should be able to scroll over to read it. Fortunately, it's at the beginning so it (hopefully) won't mess you up too bad.

The pages were dated from a month before, and were struck through with red ink and scribbled with notes about grammar and verb choices. Gabriel recognized Jesse’s handwriting to be the editors, but he knew after a moment that the printed words were Jesse’s as well. The notes were self deprecating in spots, suggesting ownership, and the words were obviously in Joel Morricone’s style. 

He wondered if Jesse had any Italian blood in him, or if he just likened the name to something out of a spaghetti western.

Gabriel read one-handedly. He shouldn’t have snooped, but when he’d woken up he’d spotted the sheaf of papers on the bedside table and curiosity had struck. He hoped Jesse wouldn’t mind him being a _ little _ nosy, especially considering Gabriel’s phone was forgotten in the living room and Jesse himself had pinned Gabriel down and effectively taken his entire right side hostage. The Cat was no less of a help, draped over their legs in a warm heap. All Gabriel could do was try to stay comfortable, ignore the pressure in his bladder, and resign himself to his fate.

It wasn’t a _ bad _ one, truth be told.

Jesse was a quiet sleeper, not given to tossing or turning or kicking. He had mumbled a few times, nothing intelligible, and cuddled closer. His breathing throughout the night had been even and slow, and he didn’t snore. Gabriel had seen him asleep a few times, either in a power nap or when exhaustion had finally sunk its fingers in and forced the issue. This time it seemed different. There was nothing fitful, no indication that he could spring to awareness at a moments notice. He was utterly relaxed. Gabriel was in no hurry to break the spell.

There was a lot to consider, however. The reason _ why _ Jesse sleeping so deeply was weighing heavily on Gabriel’s mind. The sight of Jesse happy and carefree the night before was muddled by the obvious anguish he’d been in after seeing Gabriel with what appeared to be blood on his hands.

_ You also kissed him. _

That was a hard fact as well, which went hand in hand with Jesse coming home high. Gabriel knew he liked Jesse, though like didn’t feel as though ‘like’ was a strong enough word. Fascinated, intrigued, attracted to, all those words and more summed up what he was feeling. He was also scared for him and of him, in its own way. Scared of the grip of addiction, scared because as people so often said, what _ did _ he know about him? Had Jesse even wanted to be kissed, or had he only enjoyed it because the high of the opiates in his system left him feeling touch starved and euphoric?

And worst of all, would Jesse even remember?

The papers in his hand though, those had a different story to tell beyond Marlowe and Rami’s romance caught between duty and morality. While there were only hints about how each of them looked, he caught enough to know Rami resembled himself, and something about Marlowe’s thought process reminded Gabriel of watching Jesse talk and gesture his way through a crime scene. 

_ This is us. _

Gabriel didn’t know how he wanted to feel about it, though he perfectly recognized the glowing squeeze of pleasure in his chest for what it was. He knew most people would probably be a bit freaked out if they found out their roommate was writing a love story that was at least in _ part _ inspired by their relationship, but Gabriel’s feelings for Jesse had stopped being like ‘most people’ a long time ago.

When Jesse shifted, his nose pressing against Gabriel’s side, he let his wrist go lax and held the papers away as he looked down at the other man. Slowly, groggily, his brown eyes opened. They were still pink and sore looking, but his pupils were dilated in the dim light. When they caught Gabriel’s gaze he blinked slowly, but Gabriel could see the machines in Jesse’s head coming to life. He was no longer in his stupor, the leaden euphoria no longer holding him back.

Instead of making Jesse talk first - it seemed cruel to Gabriel, anyhow - he turned his attention back to the papers and straightened them out.

“I’ve been reading,” he said, shifting enough to get comfortable, pressed as he was against Jesse. His right thumb stroked absently at the other man’s arm. 

“How d’you like it?” Jesse’s voice was tired and a little slow, but Gabriel could hear the curiosity there all the same.

“You know, I’m kind of glad you introduced me to Morricone,” he said. “His prose is good, and he’s got a grasp on the human identity most people don’t seem to. Others see people, but Morricone _ knows _ them.”

“He knows most of them, anyway.”

The tone of voice tipped Gabriel off and he curled his arm more firmly against the cowboy, refusing to let him disappear on him too soon. “I am enjoying reading about a superhero like this. It’s put together, and completely unlike a comic. It has its tropes but it doesn’t depend on them. I like that Morricone uses them as an accent and not as the body.”

“That’s most of his writing.”

“Yeah, but I like this best. It’s beautifully written.” He paused, rereading a paragraph about Marlowe’s astonishment, and devotion, to the man who’d crept into his life. “That being said, I think the love interest is over the top, isn't he? Perhaps the main character has rose tinted glasses for this guy. You're painting him in such a perfect light."

He put the papers down to look at Jesse, trying to read his eyes. It was easy to get lost in them. Gabriel did it so often he was sure that he probably looked star struck half the time he was around the other man. It made him feel like a dumb teenager… but that wasn’t such a bad thing either.

“Oh, I dunno,” said Jesse, shifting just enough that he was braced on his elbow, looking down at Gabriel. There was desire there, a want that Gabriel had been stupid to think was nothing more than a joke. “Imagine you live your entire life being untouchable, but have to behave for the public or they’ll eat you alive. Now imagine you meet the one weakness you’ll ever have. I don’t think you’d see that person the same way anyone else would.”

For a moment Gabriel was caught between poeticism and that stupidity he felt when Jesse humbled him. Arguments could be made. He didn’t _ want _ to be anyone’s weakness anymore than he liked the idea of knowing another person was such a vulnerable weak point in his own armor, a person he couldn’t truly shield because a bullet that struck them would hurt Gabriel almost as much.

He leaned up as Jesse leaned in, lips meeting, caution thrown to the wind. His hand cupped the back of Jesse’s head, pulling them tightly together as Jesse embraced him and pulled, rolling so Gabriel was on top of him. As Jesse’s hands stroked along Gabriel’s spine, lifting his shirt as he went, all things became secondary. The pain, the circumstances, no longer mattered. Jesse was touching him. The warm stroke of contact was unlike anything he’d had in fourteen months and sent his head buzzing in bliss.

He pulled away to breathe, their foreheads still together. His morning erection, which before had been nothing more than a reminder to tend to nature, was aching now. He could feel Jesse’s need pressing against him as well and the urge to fall into it and not think was near overwhelming.

Despite the voice in his head demanding more, he held back from the urge. Patience was supposed to be one of Gabriel’s stronger points.

“It’s not pretend. What I feel, anyway.” He swallowed hard and drew in a deeper breath, closing his eyes to hide his vulnerability. “I don’t know about you, but if you’re scared that it’s pretend for me, it isn’t.”

Jesse nuzzled against him and his arms tightened a little more securely around Gabriel’s form. A curious nudge lead to a tilt of Gabriel’s face and they kissed again. Whenever they managed to work out what was going to happen between the two of them, Gabriel was looking forward to spending a lot of time familiarizing himself with Jesse’s kiss.

Between them something buzzed and Gabriel’s eyes opened.

“Is that a phone in your pocket, or are you just so horny you’re vibrating?”

Jesse grinned. “Both?”

He fished between them and pulled his phone free from his pocket. Gabriel felt a little guilty for making him sleep in his jeans, but Jesse didn’t seem to care. Jesse glanced at the screen, then handed it to Gabriel to answer.

_ Incoming Call… Fareeha Amari. _

Gabriel gave Jesse a curious look, raising one eyebrow, then answered the phone. “Good morning, Ree.” 

_ “Papi? Why are you answering Jesse’s phone?” _

Gabriel tilted his head as Jesse began to kiss along the side of his face. “Jesse’s indisposed and when I saw your name on the call ID I figured it was import-” he froze, as Jesse’s teeth scraped at his neck, “tant.”

_ “Okay… well, how indisposed is he?” _

Gabriel swallowed as Jesse bit him, marking a spot on Gabriel’s neck. He could feel Jesse’s silent chuckles in the way his chest bounced with a repressed laugh. “He’s in the shower. Just because he likes to bust in on me when he’s had an idea doesn’t mean I’m about to rush the phone into him.”

Fareeha laughed. “Has he really?”

“Once,” he said, his eyes rolling back a little as Jesse began to suck a mark into his neck. The fingers of his free hand tightened into Jesse’s arm in a warning, but the cowboy didn’t seem to care. “So what do you need?”

_ “We’ve got a murder of a fairly well to do socialite out in Beverly Hills,” _ she said. Gabriel had a feeling he knew exactly who she was talking about, but just then he had to suppress another sound as his hips rocked forward. _ “Whoever did it was good with computers. Tons of surveillance in the place, and they scrubbed it. And whoever did it got into their safe.” _

It was certainly Antonio. Jesse pulled away from Gabriel’s neck with a little chuckle and kissed the aching spot before taking the phone.

“Hey sweetpea, what’s happening?”

Gabriel couldn’t quite hear Fareeha as she told Jesse the details. He didn’t give Jesse a hickey, but he did sink his teeth in a little, enough to make the other man’s breath hitch a moment. 

When Jesse’s voice dipped into professionalism, however, Gabriel stopped and began to get up, slow and lazily. Jesse’s hand was on his arm to prevent him, but it was half hearted. 

“Whatever you do, no press. I don’t care what neighborhood it is, okay? Okay. Thanks, sweetpea. Bye.” Jesse pressed up behind Gabriel at once, mouthing at his shoulder. “Duty calls. Guess we gotta take a rain check.”

“We do have a lot to talk about,” Gabriel reminded him, reaching back to rub Jesse’s hair, mussing it up even worse than it already was. The cowboy practically purred.

“When this is over and done,” Jesse said in agreement. “Guess I better wash up, since you said I showered. Dunno how you kissed me, my breath tastes like I could give a dragon a run for their money.”

“Fondness makes the morning breath taste better?” he suggested, finally hauling himself up. “There’s a reason I didn’t use tongue.”

221B only had one bathroom. Normally that worked out fine, as neither of them were particularly given to long amounts of time in front of a mirror, but now it felt a little awkward. A part of Gabriel wanted to follow him in and shower with him but he knew it was too soon to jump into _ that, _ as much as he wanted to.

He fed the Cat and checked his phone, noticing he hadn’t answered Mariana’s last text and she was annoyed by it.

**[SMS to: ** Mari **] **Sorry, yeah. We’re on a case, but provided it doesn’t run over, we’ll be there tomorrow at three.

**[SMS From: ** Mari **] **Don’t get yourself killed out there, pendejo. I know Jesse has a nice butt that’s no excuse to go too hard.

Gabriel snorted, tucking his phone away. _ Was I not subtle at all, or was I the clueless one all along? _

***

Antonio’s home looked a lot different by day. Gabriel felt a little weird as their Lyft stopped at the gate and let them out. He had expected the usual police tape and rubberneckers, but beyond a few cars up ahead in the drive and a panel van, the place looked deserted and no crowds were drawn.

“Guess they took your advice,” said Gabriel. He recognized the panel van as belonging to the forensics team.

“We won’t do a victory lap yet. I warned Hana to keep an eye on the news in Busan and all of her hashtags,” said Jesse quietly. “Just remember, when we’re in there? This is all new, all for the first time.”

Gabriel nodded. He’d figured as much.

Fareeha met them at the door. She didn’t look particularly bothered, having her usual presence of business. Not only was Antonio far from the most impressive murder they’d seen, but it meant there was no suspicions yet. 

Inside there was thin poly sheeting taped to the hardwood for them to walk on, creating a path from door to study and bedroom. Gabriel was a little disoriented when he went in the front, which was good. He didn’t need to accidentally walk around like he knew the place.

“So you may or may not have heard of this guy. Antonio Bartalotti, runs some kind of entertainment company for celebrity parties and charity events? His maid came in at her usual time… you alright, Jesse? Your sunglasses are still on.” Fareeha looked at the cowboy strangely, thrown off by his appearance.

“Hit the bourbon too hard last night when I had a smidge of writer's block,” said Jesse. The lie sounded completely genuine to Gabriel’s ears, and a little unfair. Apparently Fareeha knew about Morricone. “I need the lights a bit dimmed.”

Fareeha shook her head. “Well, don’t let Jack see. He’ll be here soon. Bartalotti’s pretty high profile. I guess there were a few quiet investigations going on about him.”

That wasn’t the best of news. He hoped no one had been surveilling them when they’d gone in to meet him at Bartalotti Entertainment.

As they passed the kitchen Gabriel slowed a moment, eyes on a bottle of wine he was sure hadn’t been there the night before. It was expensive looking, cork out and stained red at the base. A single empty glass was next to it, but Gabriel would guess it was wiped clean.

“Did Bartalotti have a guest last night?” asked Jesse. “Entertaining someone?”

“Hard to say. Hammond’s stripped his sheets for any hairs or DNA that might not belong to him. Didn’t seem to be a presence of recent fluids.”

“Mm. Hammond.” Jesse’s dislike for the little person was well known, but the feeling was at least mutual. The forensic scientist was at the top of his field, and had probably struggled a long way to get there, and didn’t like it when Jesse came in and broke down the scene quicker than he could.

Entering the study was a surreal experience. The blinds were drawn and lights were set up, giving the room an unnatural feel, like a movie set. Gabriel watched as Hammond walked along blood red yarn, strung from where Hammond was presuming was the point of impact, to blood spatters on the chair and the walls. Bartalotti had either slumped in the night or someone had come back, because there was blood pooled all over the polished cherry wood and congealed to his face.

A woman he’d met a handful of times stood in the center of the room. She was filling out a clipboard, her tool roll close at hand and carefully laid where it wouldn’t disturb anything. She paused once in her scribbling, looking at the two of them with a cat-like judgement, before she returned to it.

Dr. Gabrielle Adawe, a woman he’d met only a few times before. He only remembered her name because he shared it. She was mostly serious, and seemed to worship Jack, her eyes on him wherever he went. Jesse didn’t mind her much, but like anyone who was closer to Jack, she tended to mind Jesse, and by extension Gabriel himself.

“Time of death?” asked Jesse.

Adawe’s black eyes lifted again, slowly, then she looked back down to Antonio. “Lividity suggests he’s been dead more than twelve hours. I’d say he died around ten o’clock last night.”

That checked out for Gabriel, at least. He stood to the side, watching Jesse approach the body. From behind the desk he could feel Hammond’s animosity begin to roll out in negative waves.

“Speculation on the weapon?”

“A 9 milimeter,” said Hammond. “Three shots. And they’re good ones. Whoever did this is a professional.”

Gabriel shifted a bit, feeling lucky Lynx had confirmed it wasn’t him who’d shot Antonio to Jesse. That little fact would have had the other man even more annoyed at him, but Jesse didn’t so much as tense, and instead leaned over, narrowing his eyes as he took a good look. “Missed the heart, but a good shot between the eyes,” he muttered. “They meant business.”

“They also destroyed the laptop. Between a bullet and the blood, it’s unusable. I guess we should count ourselves lucky there wasn’t a fire.”

“I’ll check the safe,” said Jesse. “Any sign of footprints?”

“Tons, but according to his ledger he had a Comcast guy in, and there were others who came over early in the morning, so we’ve got to track them all down and rule them out.”

Jesse said nothing, leaving the room at once. Gabriel felt Adawe’s eyes on his back as he followed him out.

Antonio’s room was lavish. Like the rest of it, it blended modern luxury with the feel of a European villa or mansion. The king size bed was sprawling, but it didn’t dominate the room. There was far too much space for that. The rest of the room was decorated with muted colours, polished wood, and intricate molding on the walls.

A painting leaned over on a wingback armchair that humbled the one Gabriel favoured from his _ abuelo. _ He supposed most artists would cry or protest the abuse of the canvas, which was indented from the weight of its own frame against the arm of the chair.

The safe was open. A neat hole was drilled into it - Jesse’s fine work - and inside it was empty. Neither of them had gone through the contents yet, and he felt that keenly as he leaned over to look at it.

“Just out of curiosity,” said Jesse, making a show of looking at the safe, “_ could _ you have made those shots?”

Gabriel shot him a look. “I wouldn’t have needed to hit him in the lungs. One between the eyes would have covered it. Hell, at that distance, I probably could have got him _ through _ the eye.”

Jesse smiled. “So… did you notice anything new?”

Gabriel thought about the study a moment before he remembered the bottle of wine on the counter.

“There’d only been a bottle of beer the night before. I remember thinking he probably didn’t eat anything that was kept in his house.”

_ “Bingo. _ That’s got me pretty interested, to be honest.” Jesse’s voice dropped to a murmur. “But I can’t _ call _ it anything in particular… I’m not supposed to know it wasn’t there. And it’s a very expensive bottle. Château Pétrus Grand Cru, pinot noir. I bet that bottle’s worth at least two grand.”

“I didn’t know you like wine.”

“I think most of it tastes like someone mixed water with my cigar ash. Never been big on a bottle of wine that was more than twenty bucks and could clear my sinus’s with a sniff.”

Gabriel snorted, before he sobered a little. “I’m glad you know it wasn’t me. _ I _ use a 9 milimeter.”

“I know,” said Jesse. His tone was gentle as he turned to look at Gabriel. “And I was right pissed at you last night, let me tell you. But we’re good now.”

“I’d hope so.” He stepped back, letting Jesse get another look around. “Guess when we’re home later we should check the goodies.”

“Mmhmm.”

There was a commotion in the hallway. Fareeha called to Hammond, and she moved quickly past. A moment later Sojourn appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, looking rushed as she approached the two of them. Under the bright flood lights that had been set up in the bedroom as well, her blue eyes positively glowed.

“We’ve got another death,” she said. “We were looking into known associates when we got a call. A suicide.”

Gabriel and Jesse looked at each other. Personally, Gabriel was hoping it was Mauga. It meant there was no chance of a punch up in the future.

“Suppose that means you want me to take a look?” asked Jesse casually, hooking his thumbs in his pockets.

“Yeah,” she said. “Maybe you can make sense of it. Jack’s over there now, holding off the FBI before they take over. Figured they’d be a bit lax if we brought you, considering how Liao likes you.”

Jesse’s lips tightened into a grim line. “Oh, goodie.”

“Don’t be so upset, Jesse. It’s a murder suicide. Your favourite.”

***

On the ride back towards downtown Los Angeles where Marco Vialli was found dead Gabriel had to wonder what the hell was going on. He and Jesse knew it had been a woman there, though neither of them had seen the picture of her. And yet Sojourn, quite confidently, said Marco Vialli had admitted to the crime before killing himself.

There was something larger at play with Antonio Bartalotti and his company. Something that stopped in Montenegro, Rome, Havana, and Dorado. Lynx was on his mind on the drive as well, hoping they’d gotten completely out of the computer and that there was no trace left of them in the system, if that were possible.

“Hana says there’s no sign of anything yet,” said Jesse quietly on the drive over. He was also scrolling through Twitter, but Gabriel didn’t see anything incriminating on the feed. “I’m wondering if Vialli was our failsafe.”

“That seems a little too good to be true.”

“Guess we’ll see.”

Marco Vialli’s condo was a in a highrise on Grand Avenue. Gabriel was willing to bet the rent was four thousand a month as they got out of the Lyft and began to head towards the front entrance. Neither of the Italians seemed to tolerate anything but the best.

Jack was waiting for them by the elevators. Gabriel questioned why a police commander needed to be involved, but he offered Jack a grim smile anyway as they walked up. Jack didn’t even seem remotely surprised to see him, though his eyes travelled down and he looked almost proud of something before calling the elevator.

Jesse looked up and down Jack’s body before he smiled a bit. “How long’s Vincent out of town?”

Jack sighed. “Did Gabriel tell you?”

“No because I didn’t know he left,” said Gabriel, before smirking a bit. 

“He left after we talked on the phone. He’s at a teachers conference. Do I want to know how you know?”

“The tie. You always wear red when he’s gone because he prefers you in blue, and you’ve got a pack of cigarettes in your pocket instead of wearing a patch, since you don’t smoke when he’s home,” said Jesse. “And you missed a spot shaving near the back of your jaw and you’re usually pretty good about it.”

Jack blew out a breath and shook his head. Caught. His cheeks were tinged a bit pink, probably about sneaking smokes.

“So, major crimes have had their eyes on Vialli and Bartalotti for months now,” said Jack, with a glance at Jesse. “They’ve been itching to get their hands on Bartalotti Entertainment’s books because they’ve been using it as a money laundering business. We’re thinking so far it might be why Vialli decided to shoot Bartalotti. Someone got greedy, maybe. We’re also checking ties to the Italian mafia.”

“So you’d like me to poke around and see if anything jumps out?” asked Jesse.

“Yeah. The FBI already sent word they’ll be getting involved for some reason or another, so we want you to move as quick as you can before it stops being our responsibility. Of course, if Liao’s there…”

“She’ll want me. Yeah.” Jesse didn’t seem pleased by the prospect. Gabriel had yet to meet this person, but so far Jesse hadn’t been called upon by the FBI to serve.

The elevator dinged and they shuffled inside, with Jack hovering by the buttons. He pressed the one for the top floor and the doors slid shut. He was back to looking pleased by something.

“What?” asked Gabriel, raising an eyebrow at him. “Every time you look at me you’re like a cat with cream.”

Jack laughed. “Sorry, can’t help it. The Marine in me is proud you got some.”

Gabriel blinked, wondering what he meant, before he glanced at his reflection in the mirrored walls. Ah. Jesse had not been shy whatsoever about giving him_ that. _ It was honestly impressive he’d managed to make anything show properly on his skin.

“Oh,” he said, then shrugged, rubbing the spot. It ached in such a good way.

“So I take it the school teacher was a good time?”

“School teacher was married,” said Gabriel flatly. “To a very nice looking woman.”

“Seriously? Did you find out after?”

“Nah, before. I told him where he could fuck himself, and how hard, before I left him alone at his snobby hipster coffee bar.”

“So who…?”

Gabriel smiled. “I got mauled by a vacuum cleaner. But I also deleted Grindr so don’t bother scouting me there.”

“I’m pretty sure Vincent would kill me if I so much as looked at it in the app store.” Jack was still looking curiously at Gabriel, wanting the story of _ who _ gave the hickey. Gabriel was more than happy to keep him waiting and guessing.

The elevator stopped. Outside in the hall there was more activity. Reinhardt was with several uniformed officers, and there was tape across one of the closer apartments. Gabriel noticed he was standing a bit straighter than usual, and despite the situation, at ease.

“I’m sorry you broke up with the gymnast,” said Jesse as they passed the big German. 

“After throwing out my back last time I had enough,” laughed Reinhardt. “Give my regards to Brigitte when you get home later! And tell the Lindholm’s I’ll be by for dinner tomorrow.”

Jesse held his hand up in a wave to show he’d heard.

Where Bartalotti’s apartment was old country, Vialli clearly relished the new and modern. He was a man who didn’t like to spare any costs. Gabriel doubted anything in the house was chosen by Vialli himself. It looked to him like a catalogue threw up, everything from tchotchkes on the shelves to the throw blanket on the couch carefully calculated for price, quality, and fashion. The only thing that Gabriel found strange was that it wasn’t overly large. _ Even five grand a month doesn’t get you much in LA. _

He pause by the couch, able to see the spot Vialli favoured. A partially eaten meal of congealed linguine in tomato sauce still had a fork in it, next to a bottle of wine. _ Not _ Château Pétrus. Italian, a chianti. The glass was half full. 

The sight made Gabriel tilt his head. “Jess-”

“Yeah, I think so too,” said Jesse, without waiting for Gabriel to explain.

“He’s in the bedroom,” said Jack.

Jesse tugged Gabriel’s arm, pulling him along with.

Gabriel paused next to Jesse in the doorway of the master bedroom, eyes lifting to the man suspended from the fan. 

His impressions of Vialli in pictures were of a weak looking man who clung to good looks, a man who perhaps thought entirely too much of himself. Now he hung from a belt, a chair discarded nearby. His feet and hands were swollen, looking like he’d taken on water. His face was blue, mouth opened in a lasting cry for help, eyes red with shot blood vessels. The fan itself was twisted, and quite possibly nearing its breaking point with weight it was never meant to hold.

“You know, I figured this would be the least gross corpse I’ve ever seen, but now I’m not sure.”

“We’ve definitely seen worse, Gabe,” said Jack.

“Yeah but… this is different.”

“Things like this impress upon the fragility of man,” said a voice to his left. “And serve to show that everyone is always the same in death, with neither grace nor glory.”

A man Gabriel had never met was there, his entire body shrouded in a white Tyvek suit, black curly hair pulled into a net, a mask over his face. His eyes were oddly golden, he noticed, and something about the hair over his collar gave Gabriel the impression that this man was very hairy.

“Takes a high profile kill to get you out, Winston,” said Jesse.

“Well, Hammond is in Beverly Hills,” the man replied, coming over to them. His voice was cultured, though it had a tone to it that sounded almost goofy to Gabriel’s ears, like he’d be given to cracking jokes. Once in the hall he tugged the face mask down. His stubble wasn’t particularly long, but it was dark and thick. “It was insisted upon I arrive. We want to take him down as quickly as possible.”

“Makes sense,” said Jesse. His eyes were fixed upon Vialli as he passed the tech and walked into the bedroom, pulling on nitrile gloves as he walked. “Was there a note?”

“Yeah, with the gun,” said Jack, gesturing Jesse over, but Jesse didn’t look at him. Instead he cocked his head like an interested puppy, still staring at Vialli.

“I wouldn’t mind a moment with Gabe, please,” said Jesse.

Jack just nodded. He was used enough to Gabriel coming around to crime scenes and pretending like he’d never been there to roll with it now. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

Jesse made an okay sign with his thumb and forefinger before the door shut, leaving Gabriel and Jesse alone with Marco Vialli’s remains. There was a long beat of silence before Jesse turned around to look at Gabriel.

“So? What do you see?” he asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

Gabriel walked a little further, glancing once at Vialli’s purple face, before he looked around the room. “This was a murder. There’s no way Lynx would mistake Vialli for a woman. He’s too angular, even if he was wearing feminine clothing or trying to mask himself. Vialli had been setting in for the night. He cooked, was getting drunk. There’s no way he went to Antonio’s, blew him away, came back, made dinner, then decided he ought to kick it off before he finished his last meal. He might have even been killed before Antonio.”

“Anything else?”

He felt a bit of pressure at the question and looked around more carefully, trying to see what Jesse saw. No doubt for every thread he might be able to reach out and touch, Jesse had taken hold of three or four times that many.

“There’s dust on his desk. Perfect square… guess his maid misses there. His laptop?”

Jesse nodded.

“So his laptops gone.” Gabriel turned slowly, trying to see more. “The closet’s open, looks like it’s been gone through. Vialli isn’t a slob.” He went over to the closet, nudged aside a garment bag with his cane, and saw what was there. “Closet safe.”

“Is it opened?”

“Yeah, and it’s empty. I doubt he just kept his gun in there.”

“Which means our killer probably got the failsafe backups.”

“Aw, fuck. Hana.” Whoever had killed Bartalotti, and then Vialli, had everything on her, provided Vialli _ was _ the failsafe. “Is there anything else I missed?”

“Lots,” said Jesse, making Gabriel feel a little stupid, but Jesse waved off the look. “Like the way his belt is angled, and the way the chair’s laying on the ground. That’s not important. The question is what do we do? Whoever killed these two knew about the Blackmail. It _ bothered _ them. Remember the phone call?”

“He said he’d be happy to explain himself. To a woman, maybe.”

“Or someone representing a woman,” said Jesse. “So Bartalotti launders money through his entertainment company. He could have used restaurants or anything really, but he picked that because he’s got addictions. He’s narcissistic, likes the rush of being popular and dangerous. He also gets off on the blackmail. Being powerful over powerful people. Instead of being a good boy and making this person money he decides to indulge himself. Vialli was his buddy, so makes sense he’d pick him as the failsafe. Boss gets mad… boss takes them out for potentially exposing them.”

“...His system is at _ her _ mercy. His computer system. For inspection.”

Jesse’s eyes flickered at that. “Shit. If Lynx hasn’t scrubbed out… Well, first things first. We want these guys to believe it was murder suicide.”

Gabriel looked up at the body and noticed something. At the morbid angle that Vialli’s head rested in, it was hard to see much, but there was a glint of something in his mouth that he doubted was one of Vialli’s silver teeth.

“Jesse there’s something in his mouth.”

Jesse’s head snapped up at once, walking around to look from Gabriel’s angle. He squinted a moment, then picked up the chair and righted it. “Hope you’re ready for the wrath of Jack.”

He climbed up the chair at once to stand eye-to-eye with Vialli’s corpse, not a trace of disgust on his face. He was completely clinical as his gloved hand probed at Vialli’s swollen lips, and a moment later he slipped something free from the depths of their mouth. 

There was a glimmer of metal and Jesse held up the single piece of cardstock in the light, wrapped in saran. As the cowboy jumped to the ground Gabriel could see the excitement in Jesse’s eyes. The piece of evidence was like a shot of heroin, he realized.

“There’s a gift for us, Gabe,” said Jesse, turning it over.

“Are we sure it’s for us?” he asked, walking closer.

“More sure than I am that it belongs to the police. Either way… this would tip off the LAPD and the FBI more was going on.” He slipped the wet card into his pocket, which made Gabriel wrinkle his nose.

“That’s fucking gross.”

“What else do you want me to do with it?” he asked. “Now… to make Jack angry enough he won’t see me molest the rest of this crime scene.”

“How?”

Jesse shot him an apologetic look before he reached behind them and turned the lightswitch on with a click. Bright lights threw the room into sharper focus and Vialli made a single turn before the fan whined, snapped, and the body fell to the ground with a sick sounding thud, fan crunching after it and rolling off of Vialli’s body, letting it roll along with him. He looked like a twisted, macabre version of a marionette… if a marionette had only one string. Drywall dust floated to the ground, a little slower than the chunk ripped out from the roof, peppering the body with white.

When Gabriel shot Jesse an incredulous look, the cowboy merely shrugged and turned off the light. “He doesn’t mind.” 

Jesse adopted a bewildered expression just as the door burst open and Jack and Winston came in, the former looking about as enraged as Gabriel had ever seen him before. He supposed it was good Jack took up smoking when Vincent wasn’t home.

“What the FUCK did you DO?” Jack roared, looking at the heap that was Vialli’s remains. “We hadn’t finished-”

“Guess the fan wasn’t so steady after all,” said Jesse innocently.

“I could have you charged for that!” Jack’s face purpled. “Your ten minutes are up! OUT!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank-you for reading :)


	7. Bonfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! Merry Chrysler~
> 
> And with this, it brings Black-Handed to a close. I will do my best to start the next story on Wednesday, Just as a warning, the holidays and stuff might make me slow. But! There will be some "Aside's" coming out in the next few days, which follow Black-Handed, and precede the upcoming fic. :)

The air was cool for early October. Gabriel watched the fire burn in the Lindholm’s pit, tongues of orange licking up at the sky as sparks escaped and turned into the night, swept up by a draft. The scent wasn’t nice, woodsmoke mixed with the acrid burning of plastics and photographs, but he was relaxed anyhow as he watched.

Hana held another picture in her hand, staring at it for a long moment, before she threw it into the fire. Another followed it, and another. She looked remote as she stood at the edge of the grate, the light making her eyes gleam. The more she fed the flames, the more a small smile began to grow. A DVD blistered and cracked and curled in on itself until it was a lump of poisonous plastic.

Gabriel stretched back and looked up at the sky. The urban glow of the neighbourhood around them made seeing stars almost impossible, but the moon was up there, waxing to full. He watched it a long moment, listening to the fire sizzle and snap.

Movement made him turn his head. Jesse was next to him, holding that piece of cardstock in his hand. As Jesse turned it in his fingers a  _ calavera _ reflected the firelight, orange from the fire and purple when he twisted it just enough so only the barest illumination touched it. Ever since they’d unwrapped the card Jesse had been fascinated with it. 

Gabriel reached over to tug at the other man and put his head on his shoulder, trying to pry Jesse away from the newest puzzle, and quite possibly his newest drug.

Jesse tilted his head and turned the card over.

_ Kind Regards. _ The words shimmered in the light as well. The other thing in the saran wrapped gift was a silver dollar. Gabriel assumed it was a metaphor of some kind.

Jesse slipped the card into his breast pocket. His eyes looked clouded and distant as his empty fingers worked together. Gabriel could guess what it was causing the fidgeting. He wanted a fix. It had been long enough now that Jesse would no doubt be feeling the lure to another injection, another rush. He’d been on edge all day.

“Do you need to call Genji?” he asked, his voice low enough so it wouldn’t carry to Hana, still feeding the remains of Bartalotti’s safe into the fire. 

Jesse didn’t answer for a moment as his hand tightened into a fist, but then he sighed and turned, pressing his lips against the side of Gabriel’s temple in a dry kiss. The joints of the lawnchair squeaked as he heaved himself up.

“If I’m not back in ten, come look for me,” said Jesse, before heading through the patio door. There was a clatter as it closed, and then nothing but the sound of the crackling fire.

Hana turned to look at Gabriel, a sheaf of papers in her hand, and then looked at the back door. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” said Gabriel, hoping that what he said wasn’t a lie. He couldn’t imagine what Jesse was feeling just then. “Just making a phone call.”

She nodded, them fed the papers to the flames. “I’m almost done. Me, and all of these people, we’re going to be free.”

The last ten hours had been… something. The FBI had taken the case of Bartalotti and Vialli, and their names were released to the public despite Jesse’s warnings both to someone named Liao and to Jack. Jack had been in no mood to entertain McCree after they’d ‘accidentally’ dropped Vialli’s body on the ground. 

In addition to the announcement Bartalotti Entertainment was raided. While Gabriel doubted he’d ever hear anything back about that, they did hear from Fareeha that their head of security had gone suspiciously missing. He’d boarded a plane for Havana first thing that morning, and they were treating it as a possible double murder, though preliminary lab results suggested a DNA and fingerprint match from the wine glass and bottle at Bartalotti’s to Viali. 

The back gate squeaked, but instead of a group of children Lynx walked around the side of the house, their locs tied back with a long scarf and their headphones blinking with different LED lights. It seemed the colour of that day was purple. Gabriel wondered if they had an entire rainbow of ball shoes and track pants hiding in their closet.

“Hey Lynx!” said Hana excitedly, as she tossed the last of the duffle bag into the fire.

“Ah, I missed it did I?” they said. 

“Everything is burned,” said Hana, moving around the firepit to give them a hug. “Exorcised. Nothing’s shown up online, has it?”

Lynx shook their head. “I had a list of all of the names of his victims. I’ve put them all into an alert system in case any starts trending, but it’s just the usual celebrity twitter. If there was another failsafe, they don’t seem to have cared that Bartalotti died.”

Lynx and Hana both sat down next to Gabriel, making the old folding chairs grumble.

“I can finally enjoy my vacation,” said Hana with a sigh. “Yuna is coming out, too. It’ll be nice.”

“You know it’s kind of a cold time of year for coming to the US,” said Gabriel.

“It’s okay. We don’t really do Halloween in South Korea, so I think that will be very interesting. And a man has been calling me about acting for him. Umm… a Mr. Harold Alfredo.”

Lynx laughed. “Are you going to be in a Halfred movie?”

“I haven’t signed anything. He seems very… B-List.”

“Well I hear he’s going to get a Morricone adaption,” said Gabriel, amused. That reminded him of Hana recommending Jesse’s books in the first place, and he hauled himself out of the chair. “You kids wait here, alright?”

“Sure, old man,” said Lynx, making Hana giggle, before they returned to the topic of which Morricone book Halfred might have gotten his hands on. It made Gabriel wonder if Lynx had any idea Jesse was the author.

He cut through the inside of the Lindholm’s. Their piece of 221 Baker Street was a mixture of tidy and haphazard. While Ingrid was a neat housekeeper, and it showed, her grandkids still left their marks everywhere. Cookies in odd corners, toys in funny places, crayon on the walls. The refrigerator was papered with drawings, both crayon and fingerpainted, and the toy boxes were overflowing. Gabriel honestly had to wonder how all of them could fit into one house. They were out, though, at their monthly movie trip, leaving the house quiet.

“Hello?” A voice from the hall made Gabriel pause, looking around.

Brigitte stood in the hallway, a cookie in one hand and a glass of milk in the other, wearing fuzzy pajamas. She was the youngest daughter, just turning eighteen, and her height and build made Gabriel wonder sometimes if Reinhardt and Ingrid had had a side thing.

“Hey, sorry. I’m just passing through but I’ll go around when I head back out.”

She swallowed the bite of cookie. “It’s okay. I just heard Jesse and I guess I thought he was coming back through. I don’t care if you tromp through. Papa is the only one who gets irritable. I am wondering though what you’re burning that’s making that awful smell.”

“We’re done now.”

“Oh, okay. Is that Hana Song outside? Did I hear right?”

Gabriel laughed. Well, they’d have to talk a little quieter. “Yeah, it is. And she’s in a pretty good mood. I bet she’d give an autograph.”

“Ooh!” Brigitte turned and hurried down the hall, spilling milk as she went.

“Hey, Brigitte? Did Jesse leave?”

Her voice was a bit muffled as she went into her room. “Nope! Upstairs!”

That was a relief. He let himself into the connecting hall between the apartments and headed upstairs, taking his time. The light was on under the door, at least.

When he grew level with it he could hear Jesse’s murmurs. He didn’t enter at once, a hand on the door, testing the tone with which Jesse was talking, but there were boots on the floor and a moment later the door opened to reveal Jesse on the other side of the threshold.

He smiled, beckoning Gabriel inside with one hand, then walked further into the apartment. There was coffee brewing and a bottle of Glenlivet out on the counter, the cap aside and a tumbler next to it with perhaps a swallow left in the bottom of the glass. Gabriel went over to it and poured more into the cup before he took a drink himself, watching Jesse hover in the hall.

“Yeah. Yeah. I will, Gen. Yeah, Gabe’s here. He’s got an eye on me. And I don’t have any in the house. Even if I had, Echo and Sym were here the other day and Sym would have dumped it down the toilet. She’s got a nose on her like a drug dog, I swear. Yeah. See ya.”

Jesse hung up and turned to look at Gabriel. He looked a touch troubled, but Gabriel gave him a smile before pouring another glass.

“Y’know, that’s mine,” said Jesse.

“I thought this was the house whiskey,” said Gabriel, lifting it, threatening to drink.

“I meant the glass.”

“Mm. How tragic.” Gabriel drank the second glass. It was burning down through his chest now, warming him. “You know, I think Hana has been so great that she deserves a few signed copies of Morricone’s work. Maybe Lynx too. I don’t know if they know.”

“Lynx says they figured it out, but I’m the one that told them, so if the topic comes up don’t listen to them.” Jesse leaned against the counter, looking at the glass. Gabriel didn’t move to fill it for him, though, letting Jesse make the call if he was in the right headspace to drink or not. “Hana does deserve the full set. Good thing I keep a bunch in my study.”

Gabriel let the silence build between them a long moment. Distantly he could hear someone laughing, and supposed he’d left his bedroom window open. He didn’t feel an urge to go join them. He knew where he’d rather be.

“How’s the head?”

“Headlike.” Jesse sighed as he pulled away from the counter. “Loud, mostly.”

“Are you afraid of using?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “Thing is, I can tell myself not to do it and I’ll listen. I’ve got the willpower not to. Just… the other night…”

Gabriel was privately calling bullshit, but he didn’t argue it. He was yet to meet an addict that didn’t make excuses or claims like that, but now wasn’t the time, and it wasn’t his fight, at least not until he’d learned what to do from Genji.

He walked over to Jesse and reached out to him, taking his hand. “We can put off talking if you want. But if we wait until we’re absolutely ready it might be awhile.”

Jesse looked up at that, his fingers tightening around Gabriel’s. “I don’t  _ want _ to wait. I think you and I have done enough waiting, and I don’t just mean with each other.”

“You ready to tell me a thing or two, then?”

“I suppose.” He sighs. “We gotta do this right now?”

He leaned in, giving Jesse a small kiss. The gesture made Jesse go still, his breathing gentle, and Gabriel held himself there for a long moment. He did want to do it now, to spend the rest of the evening alone with Jesse. He was impatient to figure it all out, get the unpleasantness out of the way.

But… duty called.

“When company’s gone,” said Gabriel. “C’mon. Let’s get Hana her present. It looks like Hal already called her for a role in his upcoming film, so I guess she’s got to do some reading.

“Aw, fuck,” said Jesse with a shake of his head as he plucked a sharpie from a pen cup. “I don’t even have a  _ script _ yet. That fucking asshole’d toss the cargo in front of the horse, never mind the goddamn cart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you, as always, for reading


End file.
